


This Isn't a Game Anymore

by Paranormality



Series: The Tales Trilogy [1]
Category: VenturianTale Characters (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 48,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranormality/pseuds/Paranormality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the VenturianTale crew finds an old computer that they accidentally break, it opens a world that they never knew existed: their own. From Gmod to Minecraft, they must traverse their own games to finally make it home. But with Jimmy Casket following in their steps, their adventure quickly becomes life or death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Spark that Started it All

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is reposted from my Wattpad account, where it was originally written. Also, the earlier chapters are quite old so they're not quite up-to-par with my more recent works. Also, some of the earlier chapters are suuuuuper short but unfortunately, combining them would mess up some of the later ones. Thanks for reading!

“Sally! What is- WHAT IS THAT?! Why is Freddy in the house?” A shout rang out in the house, accompanied by a chorus of laughter.

“Papa, Freddy is hungry! He needs waffles!” A high pitched, childlike voice replied, a small laugh hidden amongst the words.

“Sally, there are no velociraptors allowed in the house. If Mama Gertrude finds this mess, then- Billy!” The raspy, older voice cried out, surprise evident in its tone.

“Papa Acachalla!” Said yet another voice, seemingly about the same age as the one named Sally but definitely male. “I found a bouncy ball for Freddy! Can we all play with it?”

“No!” Shouted Papa Acachalla’s voice. “That’s not a bouncy ball!”

Normally, if you woke one morning to a sound like this, the sheer wierdness would cause you to avoid whoever was involved. But in the Frye home, such things were normal.

This was exactly what Paula Frye was thinking about as she made her coffee on that bright, Sunday morning. The window curtains were drawn, so, as was routine, Mama Frye opened them the moment she entered the dining room. The entire area was suddenly  filled with light, exposing every dark corner that had been hidden away under that dark blanket of night.

Mrs. Fry smiled to herself, taking a sip of her coffee. She was proud of her family, despite the odd shout that emanated from the room down the hall.

“Don’t shoot that; it’s a- AAAH That’s a NUKE!” Shouted her oldest son Jordon, as if on cue.

“Isaac, what’ve you done?” Laughed Cierra, the second oldest of the siblings, to Isaac, the youngest.

“He’s blown up the whole world!” Bethany, the second youngest, giggled.

With a shake of the head and a terse-but -genuine smile, Mrs. Frye swept into the kitchen and grabbed two plates piled high with bacon, ham, and eggs. She set them down in their respective places on the table, and went back to the kitchen to get the others’. Cierra and Jordan have everything, Bethany with only eggs, and Isaac with hashbrowns. She was going to have the leftovers from last night’s italian takeout because _dang_ that was good.

Once she finished everything involving breakfast, she knocked three times on Jordan’s door, which was their universal signal to wrap up recording.

“That is all for this time!” Jordan concluded a few moments later. “Again, that you guys for all of the love and support and we will see you next time.”

A few seconds later, the door burst open with  four eager siblings racing to the dining table.

“Morning Mom!” Said Bethany cheerily through a mouthful of cheese and eggs.

“Morning Bethany,” Mrs. Frye replied, sitting down. “Morning everyone. How was your recording this morning?”

“Good,” Said Jordan, who was busy trying to steal Isaac's bacon.

“What’s your subscriber count so far?” She asked for the sake of conversation.

“We just hit a million!” Said Isaac, swatting Jordan’s hand away. “We did a livestream the other day- you remember, don’t you? You peeked your head in- and in the middle we hit a million!”

“Awesome!” She said, clapping. “What’s your next goal?”

“Two million, I guess.” Said Jordan, making another attempt at Isaac’s bacon.

“A bit much,” Said Mrs. Frye, noticing the plates that were becoming more and more absent of food. “Perhaps we’ll start with the dishes. Who’s on it?”

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

“Not me!”

“Not- Dang it.”

Isaac mumbled a bit before sliding out of his chair and trudging into the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Said Bethany, standing up. “There are a lot of dishes since we didn’t do them last night.”

“And I’ll help with Mom’s laundry,” Said Cierra, handing her plate to Isaac. “There’s a pile of dirty clothes the size of a DALEK in the laundry room.”

“And I’ll get started on editing what was supposed to be the Waffle Portal Gun mod,” Jordan laughed. “Isaac kinda blew it up at the end.”

“It’s not HomelessGoomba without an explosion!” Isaac declared, causing ripples of laughter from the others to follow.

“Well, we’d better all get started,” Said Jordan, turning towards his room. “Because we’ve got a lot of work to do!”

***

Two and a half hours later, Jordan finally finished editing and was currently uploading the video to YouTube. Isaac and Bethany had finished the dishes about an hour ago and Cierra was just finishing up the laundry in Jordan’s bedroom. They were now trying to fix the broken monitor that they had found in the attic and had never bothered to clean up. There were wires sticking out of odd places, and they had made it their sole duty to fix the computer and hook it up the the recording systems in case someone wanted to record with them.

“Aaaaand done!” Jordan announced as soon as the video finished uploading. He spun around in his swivel chair a few times before asking, “Whatcha doing? Are you really going to fix that? It looks like it came from Freddy’s time period!”

“I’m pretty sure dinosaurs didn’t have computers back then,” Bethany laughed.

“And it’s not that old,” Cierra added. “It’s only about ten years old.”

“So... Close to Freddy’s time period then,” Jordan said decisively.

“Close enough,” Said Isaac, stuffing a stray wire back into the plastic shell. “Do you think it’s working yet?”

“It was working when we found it, but not very well.” Replied Cierra, closing the panel in the back. “So maybe once we hook this up to the other computers we can start using it.”

“Like this?” Isaac took the computer’s plug and connected it to the port on Jordan’s computer.

“Nononono! That’s gonna-”

Suddenly, all of the lights went out in a brilliant flash, sparks flying from the old computer and shattering the screen.

“Now you’ve done it,” Cierra snapped. “You’ve trolled electricity!”

“And my poster collection,” Added Jordan, attempting to brush off a few stray sparks that had found their way onto his Avengers poster.

The lights slowly turned on again one by one.

“You kids okay?” Mrs. Frye called from outside.

“Yeah, we’re fine!” Bethany replied.

“We lost power for a minute there,” She said before walking away(Like a bird).

“Thank you for that, Isaac,” Cierra laughed. “But it seems that we’re okay now.”

“Can’t say the same for the computer, though.” Said Jordan, picking up a glass shard of the broken screen.

“All that work for a broken computer,” Said Bethany. “We’d better get this cleaned up.”

“Later,” Insisted Jordan, sweeping the glass fragments into a neat pile. “Right now I am having a sudden urge to play Left 4 Dead.”

As everyone made a mad dash to their computers, no one noticed the broken computer start to smoke. No one noticed the smoke begin to thicken into a ghostly figure, and no one heard the faint whisper of “Stab, stab, stab!"


	2. Let the Games Begin

        Jordan slid off his duct taped- headphones and let them dangle around his neck. Quickly, he shut off Left 4 Dead after glancing at the time. 10:39 PM. Dinner had come and gone, and Mama Frye had already gone  to bed.

        “Jordan, I’m gonna get some Cheerios, alright?” Cierra said over Skype.

        “So mature!” Isaac said sarcastically with a laugh.

        Bethany laughed. “I’m gonna come too. Everyone needs a Cheerio break once in awhile.”

        Jordan smiled. “Okay. I’m going to clean up the computer mess.”

        “Alright. Lemme mute your line so we don’t hear glass clinking around everywhere.” Isaac said, before his line went silent.

        Jordan muted his Skype before rolling his swivel chair out from under his desk. He stole a glance at the smoking machine.

        Wait... He didn’t remember the computer smoking before!

        And this smoke was different than normal smoke. It was darker, thicker, and almost... alive. It writhed around the broken glass shards like coiling snakes.

        Jordan approached it cautiously. Hesitantly, he tried to touch the odd smoke. It almost seemed to flinch and move away from his touch. He was about to do it again when a knife suddenly went flying by his shoulder and embedded itself in the wall.

        “What the-?” Jordan yelled, backing up against the wall and looking for whoever threw it.

        A psychotic laugh echoed around Jordon, as if he were in a larger space than he actually was. It seemed eerily familiar...

        A dark figure stood in the doorway, red eyes gleaming crazily. Jordan had to squint to see who it was. “Who are you?” He asked it, inching away from the knife.

        The figure laughed again, stepping into the light. He had a bloodstained blue sweatshirt on, the hood almost torn off for it was so tattered. The symbol on the front reminded him of the Ghostbusters logo, as it was a red circle with a ghost in the center with a red line through that. It was hardly visible behind the maroon layer of blood that soaked most of his clothes. His dark jeans had holes and rips, more blood splattered across the legs. His eyes were crazed and murderous, a mad glint in their red pupils.

        “Hello, Jordan!” He laughed, stepping closer.

        “Who are you?” Jordan stuttered, backing up into the wall.

        An evil grin spread across the man’s face, and he approached Jordan who was to afraid to react. “What, you don’t remember me?”

        A look of realization flashed across Jordan’s face. The man’s voice, his personality, and that knife, it all meant one thing.

        “J-Jimmy?” Jordan gasped. “Jimmy Casket?”

        Jimmy smiled and nodded. “There you go! Now ya remember, don’t you?”

        “B-but... You’re supposed to be only in Gmod!” Jordan shouted as Jimmy stepped closer. “In the game!”

        Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, but his maniacal smile remained. “This isn’t a game anymore, Frye.” Jimmy said in a voice that sounded almost exactly like Jordan’s when he was roleplaying as him.

        Jordan’s eyes swam with fear and he reached for the knife that had stuck into his Frozen poster. Jimmy beat him to it and swiped the knife at Jordan’s hand. Blood poured from the wound and he yelped in pain.

        “Ah, ah, ah!” Jimmy cackled. “Don’t touch something that isn’t yours!”

        Jordan glanced around frantically, looking for a weapon of some kind. All he found was his plastic Minecraft figurine of Steve, which sported diamond armor and a miniature diamond sword. Desperately, Jordan grabbed the sword and stabbed it at Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy didn’t even flinch, but rather glanced down at the tiny plastic sword which had been stabbed into his torso.

        He gave Jordan a mocking look and removed the bloodied toy. “Really?” Jimmy laughed. “You call that a knife?”

        Jimmy pressed his knife against Jordan’s neck, making him choke. “BETHANY! ISAAC! CIERRA!” He shouted, with some difficulty.

        Jimmy’s maniacal smile became wider as he pressed the knife harder. Jordan gagged and choked, struggling for breath. “Hey, hey hey hey hey,” Jimmy said, his eyes glinting with madness. “Wanna know my secret?”

***

       Bethany slowly poured a steady stream of milk into her bowl, watching it splash onto the once-dry Cheerios. Dropping a spoon into the mix, she walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. Cierra was waiting for her there, happily munching on her cereal.

        A thump carried through the hallway from Jordan’s room, with a few muffled words following it.

        Bethany glanced toward Jordan’s door, which briefly shook in its hinges. “Do you think we should make sure Jordan’s ok?” She asked.

        Cierra nodded, setting her bowl aside. “Yeah. We should also see if he needs any help with cleaning up that computer mess-” She was interrupted by a loud crash that echoed throughout the house.

        Bethany looked at Cierra, eyes wide, and silent words traveled between them. In a split second, they both took off running toward Jordan’s room.

        “JORDAN!”

        A voice spoke from outside Jordan’s bedroom door, and Jimmy’s psychotic expression faded and he cast an irritated expression towards it. Jordan flailed his arms at Jimmy, trying to get him to loosen the knife’s grip on his throat.

        Jimmy pressed the blade harder, and then let go. “Now don’t you go anywhere,” He instructed, waving his finger back and forth and dashing to the door. “I’m not done with ya yet!” A maniacal laugh accompanied his words.

        Jordan’s lungs were burning for air, as if they had been set on fire. He coughed a few times, small droplets of blood splattering the tan carpet. He fell to the floor, gasping.

        Jimmy grabbed one of Jordan’s life size plastic lightsabers and flipped it open. Wedging it in the door, he tested the handle. It didn’t budge.

        Smiling to himself, he returned to Jordan. “Now then, where were we?”

        Jordan was shaking too hard to respond.

        Jimmy maniacally laughed, cracking a crazy smile. His red eyes gleamed with bloodlust as he approached, his laughter ringing in Jordan’s ears.

        The door juggled in its hinges. “Jordan? What’s going on in there?” Cierra’s voice asked.

        Jimmy ignored the call, raising his knife. “Goodbye, Frye!” He cackled. “Hey, that rhymes.”

         _Why did I make him so insane?!_ Jordan thought, panic racing through every inch of him. _How is he here, anyway?_

        Jimmy swiped the knife at Jordan, who recieved a deep gash in his arm. He yelped, ducking under Jimmy.

        Jimmy whirled, swinging the knife again. Jordan dodged, dashing for the door. Before Jimmy could react in protest, Jordan kicked the lightsaber away and swung the door open.

        “Guys! Help!” He shouted, trying to get as many words in before Jimmy could attack again. “It’s-”

        He was cut off by an arm wrapping around his neck. He gagged, flailing his arms in attempt to loosen Jimmy’s grasp. A knife was positioned across his neck.

        “Now now,” Jimmy hissed. “I told you not to misbehave, and now what did you do?”

        Bethany, Cierra and Isaac stood in the doorway, frozen in shock.

        “Who is that?!” Isaac stammered.

        “Ji-Jimmy-” Jordan choked out as Casket’s arm tightened. “Jimmy Casket-”

        “But... He’s only in the game!” Bethany argued.

        “That doesn’t matter right now!” Cierra said firmly, bursting into the room. “Let’s get him!”

        Jimmy laughed maniacally, taking steps backwards. “That’s funny! He just asked the same question!” A crazy glint entered his eye. “Speaking of games, let’s take the fight into one!”

        “Make it quick, then...” Jordan gasped, his face beginning to turn purple.

        Cierra barreled into Jimmy, sending both them and Jordan tumbling to the floor. Jordan fought for breath a moment, before shakily getting to his feet.

        “Thanks Cierra,” Jordan breathed.

        “Don’t mention it,” She replied, eying Jimmy with a death glare.

        Jimmy only laughed. “Ooh! Finally! A fight! Your brother here wasn’t very resistant. I could’ve killed him very easily!”

        Cierra glanced nervously at Jordan.

        Bethany suddenly appeared behind Jimmy, plastic lightsaber in hand. As if she was holding her mighty crowbar, she swung the lightsaber and brought it down on Jimmy’s head. It split in two, the second piece falling to the ground. A small trickle of blood from the small wound Bethany’s attack had caused dripped down Jimmy’s face, falling into his already red eyes.

        “You put up a fight too!” Jimmy said excitedly. “This will be fun.” He glanced down at the broken computer monitor. “Anyway, let’s get started!”

        Jimmy stuck his hand into the monitor and he immediately turned to smoke, the dim red glow from his eyes being the only thing left visible. “See you on the other side!” He cackled, before disappearing.

        The room suddenly began to shift, it’s edges blurring. What appeared to be blue strings of code gushed from the broken monitor, filling everyone’s vision and drowning the room in a turquoise glow.

        Jordan closed his eyes, dizziness overtaking him. Before he blacked out, one thought crossed his mind:

        That this was crazily, inarguably, and insanely real.


	3. Toasted Ghosts

        Darkness. It is not beginning or end, nor death or life. It was simply the absence of all perception, a total shadow of mind. A cloak, that under which everything is hidden.

        And that’s where our story really begins.

        Falling through what seemed to be an endless tunnel of shadows, Jordan Frye though he was going to die. So did his three siblings, falling beside him, strings of blue code dancing around them as they plummeted.

        None of them could speak, nor make any sort of noise at all. It seemed as if the darkness was a void of everything, absorbing any form of speech or movement, so that the young adventurers could not even feel the whip of the wind lashing at them as they fell.

        The void also seemed to absorb any speck of rational thinking.

 _HOLYCRAPI’MGOINGTODIE!_ Jordan screamed in his head, flailing around as he fell. Although he tried to come to his senses, his efforts failed. Whether it was the fact that the fear pulsing through him was too intense or his mind wasn’t clear enough to remain calm is unknown.

        He was suddenly aware that the darkness was beginning to fade, replaced by a steady beam of light that he and his siblings seemed to be falling into. Unable to look into it anymore, Jordan shut his eyes, hoping for the best. As he reached the ending of the void, he shouted, though he knew that he could not be heard.

        “HELP!”

***

 _"Beep beep beep beep..."_ An alarm clock blared. A gloved hand reached out of the blankets on the neighboring bed and gave it a hard smack, silencing the wailing machine. After a few grumbles and short complaints, the owner of both the alarm clock and the arm sat up in his bed. His grey eyes were tinged red with exhaustion, his shaggy black hair tousled from being hidden under the pillow all night.

        The man yawned and got out of bed. He was not wearing any pajamas, but rather what appeared to be climbing equipment. The rope and pickaxe he usually wore on his back were under his bed. He rarely changed before bed nowadays, because of the nightly... incidents that occurred. He would rather be prepared for the worst, just in case his boss has another episode in the middle of the night.

        He soothed his hair against his head as he tried to clear his thoughts. Last night was one of the rare times when he slept without interruptions and he should be happy about that, and not worry over it like he was. The night before, for instance, his rest was cut short because of his boss- well... not him exactly- “requesting” a cup of his breakfast coffee. It seemed to be the only thing that got him back to sleep again. Somehow, it gave him comfort knowing that he had helped him.

        He quietly opened the door to the hallway. His boss’s bedroom door was cracked open, snoring coming from inside. The man peeked his head inside. Thankfully, all seemed to be as usual.

        Pleased, he left him to sleep and went downstairs to the kitchen. As was routine, he made two cups of coffee and prepared the coffee maker for a third. When he finished, he glanced at the clock. 9:44. Silently he counted to himself until he reached sixtly. Right as he finished, he heard a door creak open and the hallroom light switched on.

        Right on time, Ghost. He thought to himself, smiling faintly.

        His boss slid down the stairwell. “Morning Toast!” He said gleefully as we walked into the room.

        Now, if you saw these men on the job, you would have thought that Toast would be the one in charge, as he was 27 and Ghost was 23. But Ghost had founded their company, which he named the Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire. At that time, it was just Ghost and the little beat up minivan that he called Sasha with second hand equipment crammed inside. But one day he met up with a man named Jonathan Zachary Toast that had training in the paranormal. It turned out that Toast had recently moved from England and was currently looking for  job, which Johnny Ghost eagerly offered him.

        The company grew from there. They got Sasha completely upgraded and repainted, despite Toast’s insistence upon just getting a new van.

        “Good morning, sir.” Toast said, calling him “sir” as an act of respect. “Did you sleep well last night?”

        Ghost shook his head. “No... I went to bed at a reasonable hour, but I’m not rested at all. I might take a nap later.” He yawned as if to underline his point.

        Toast stiffened. “That’s... certainly odd, sir. Why don’t you get your coffee and lay down for a nap awhile. We don’t have a call today, so we should be relatively free.”

        Ghost nodded sleepily and took his coffee mug to the beat up chair that had been shoved into the corner of the room. Toast marveled some days at his blindness to the fact that someone else was sharing his head.

        I suppose I should explain before I go any further.

        Johnny Ghost was never normal. Even during his childhood, it was clear that he was different from everyone else. Everyone credited it to PTSD, because his parents both died before he even knew them and spent most of his life going from foster home to foster home. But it was worse then just that. During class he would become violent randomly, and later have no recollection of the event. It was mostly ignored, and assumed to be short-term memory loss. Then there was the day that while in one of his phases, he injured a student with a pair of scissors. It wasn’t serious, but it was enough to cause major concern.

        His guardians at the time immediately took him to a psychologist, who diagnosed him with Multiple Personality Disorder. She also figured out that it was most active when faced with extreme anxiety or presented with a large weapon. During a session, she actually got the alternate personality to speak, and he identified himself as Jimmy Casket. With the help of medicines and therapy, Jimmy Casket seemed to gradually retreat. But once Johnny reached 19, his foster parents died in a car crash. He was in the car himself, but emerged relatively unharmed. The odd thing to him was that no one was on the road, they didn’t crash into anything, and it was a perfectly clear day. Although no one knew, the car crashed because of him.

        He had been skipping his medication all week, although his guardians didn’t know. Jimmy was coming back more frequently, though he was completely unaware as Casket could toy with his head. He thought that everything was fine, so he just stopped taking it. It would soon prove to be a bad decision.

        Everything that day was a bit abnormal. Jimmy had appeared many times, and it was only just past noon. In fact, they were driving to the psychologist to fix the problem. Apparently this irritated Casket, and he decided to make his opinion known.

        No one knew quite what happened. Johnny had passed out near the beginning of the ride, and woke up to the worried faces of several paramedics. His head was throbbing, and the snow that he was laying in was no longer a pure white, but stained a sick red. He nearly puked, as he always became queasy at the sight of blood. His arm appeared to be cut, but that was the extent of his injuries. He sat up, much to the protests of the paramedics.

        “You don’t want to see this, kid-” One warned.

        He ducked under their arms and limped into the frost, searching for his foster parents. When he found them, he wished he’d never looked. THe paramedics eventually caught up to him and loaded him into an ambulance while he was too shocked to protest. The shock was not from the realization that his family was gone, but the fact that they had died from a stab wound.

        And he happened to have a perfectly knife shaped glass shard in his jacket pocket.

        The world around him became a blur, and he could perceive very little. He was shaking and yelling random phrases at no one in particular. Most of them were ununderstandable, but others could be understood as “NOT MY NAME! N-NOT MY NAME!” Some of it was trauma, but the real reason that he was shouting at no one was because of Jimmy Casket, the voice in his head.

        He awoke in a hospital bed three days later with no memory of the accident, which begged the question: who was really in control?

        Following this, Johnny decided to try and have a normal life. Jimmy constantly chattered on, offering his psychotic and sometimes sarcastic opinions about everything Ghost did. Ghost never gave it a second thought. Johnny attempted to get a technological degree, but got bored and decided to walk out on the course. Literally walked out, as he spontaneously announced that he wanted coffee and left the classroom. After his coffee, he began to contemplate job ideas, with Jimmy’s commentary running the whole time. At one point, Jimmy sarcastically suggested that he become a paranormal investigator and try to find his brother. Johnny replied that he had no brother, but he would consider the idea. Surprisingly, Jimmy went silent and muttered to himself. Johnny took this as a good sign and began to study the field. He soon grew to love the subject, and even created his own company: Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire. He then met his partner, Johnny Toast, and they became the top Paranormal Investigators in the country.

        Toast, however, was concerned about this Jimmy character. The final straw was when Ghost climbed out of a window and broke his leg under Jimmy’s influence. Soon after, Ghost was back on his medication and completely forgot about his little voice. Toast credited this to Jimmy, who had been proven to toy with his partner’s mind.

        Now, three years later, Jimmy was coming back. He would get up in the middle of the night and bother Toast for food and heavily caffeinated beverages, and promptly began sharpening knives on the occasion that it was denied. Toast obliged every time, because he worried that Jimmy would harm Ghost if he became upset. And now, sitting in he and Ghost’s living room, his worries seemed to be returning.

        “Toast? Hey Toast.” Said Johnny Ghost, stirring his coffee as fast as he could in an attempt to make a whirlpool.

        Toast broke out of his frightened daydream just in time to answer. “Hmm? Oh, yes, sir?”

        “What’s that beeping?” Ghost asked, readjusting the mangled pillow that he was sitting on.

        Toast was suddenly aware that there was in fact a beeping noise, and it appeared to be coming from downstairs, in the basement. “Some of the equipment is going off, I think.” He replied, setting the breakfast preparations aside.

        Ghost accidentally snapped his coffee stirrer and swore under his breath. “Do we have to go check it now?”

        Toast nodded, urgently. “The neighbor’s house exploded the last time we ignored it, Sir, and we certainly don’t want a repeat of that.”

        “They still have no proof that is was us,” Ghost replied, getting up to follow his teammate. “We blamed it on their dog, which should hold us for awhile.”

        Toast sighed irritably and rushed down the stairs to the basement, Ghost following in suit. He pushed open the door and rushed to the various monitors and equipment was was positioned all around the room. All of them were beeping or giving off some sort of alarm, signaling a large shift in... Toast didn’t know. Ghost did, but he just called it “Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey Stuff,” which worked out fine for him.

        “These readings are off the charts!” Ghost exclaimed, dashing over to the gravity fluctuation detector. “Everything’s haywire. It’s like reality itself is collapsing!”

        “Not quite, Sir.” Toast replied, typing into a large computer as charts flashed on and off of the screen above it. “More like... a hole in space time.”

        “Like a wormhole?” Ghost asked, pushing buttons furiously.

        “Sort of. I don’t know, Sir. Can you pinpoint the origin?” Toast asked.

        “One step ahead of you,” Ghost answered, tilting his screen so that Toast could see. “You may want to look at this.”

        Johnny Toast looked at the screen for a good while, before glancing up at his comrade. Invisible words traveled between them and they both ran upstairs as fast as they could. The signal was coming from their backyard.

        They made a mad dash for the back door, crashing outside and falling onto the lawn. Ghost looked up, and saw that the sky was crowded with stormclouds, multicolored lightning flashing everywhere. A funnel of clouds was extending into their lawn, growing larger every moment.

        “What’s going on?” Ghost shouted, his voice muffled by the wind.

        “I don’t know, Sir! Get inside!” Toast yelled, trying to pull his partner back into the house.

        “No! Wait! We’ve gotta see this!” Ghost protested, watching the storm rage.

        “Are you mad?! We need to get to safety!”

        “You think a wall is going to save us? Just watch! If anything goes wrong, we’re going to die anyway!”

        Toast groaned at the reckless nature of his partner. “No. Sir, we need to get out of here.”

        Ghost got up and began to inch closer to the cyclone. “Fine. You go then. I’m staying here.”

        “Certainly not!” Toast shouted, grabbing Ghost’s sleeve and giving it a sharp yank. “Run!”

        But Ghost would not move. The cyclone expanded until it took up the entire lawn, flashes of electricity blinding the duo. There was a huge pulse of light, and then a humungous explosion. Somehow, nothing was damaged besides a rather large crater in the lawn.

        Toast opened his eyes as the dust cleared. Helping his partner up, he coughed a few times. “What was that?!” He asked, not expecting an answer.

        “I don’t know... Let’s go look.” Ghost replied, dragging Johnny Toast to the crater.

        “I hardly think that it’s a good idea, Sir, it could be radioactive.”

        “Toast-”

        “Sir, we should get some equipment to test the stability of this event.”

        “Toast-”

        “C’mon, let’s go inside-”

        “Toast! There’s people inside.”

        “What?!”

        Both men leaned over the smoking crater, craning their necks to see what was there. Ghost kneeled next to the gaping hole, shifting the debris and dirt. To his surprise, four teenagers were laying at the bottom of the pit. Ghost gasped and tried to shake one awake. “Hello?! Wake up! Who are you?”

        The older boy with a blue hoodie jumped awake and groaned. “What- Where are we? Who’re you?”

        Toast leaned over the crater. “I’m Johnny Toast, and this is Johnny Ghost. Are you alright? Do you know what just happened?”

        The boy shook his head. “No, I don’t. All I remember is being attacked by- You!” He pointed to Ghost feverishly. “You’re the one that attacked us! Wait... No. You don’t have red eyes or the knife. Was it you?”

        Ghost almost laughed. “No. I’ve never seen you in my life. Are you sure it was me?”

        Toast coughed. “Why don’t you all come inside?” He suggested, interrupting the conversation. “You should get cleaned up and then we can sort out what just went on.”

        The boy nodded and began to try and wake up the other teenagers. Toast furrowed his brow, deep in thought. They were in a big mess, and Jimmy Casket was the source of it all.

 


	4. "We've Got a Case!"

        The room was tense as the four children sat down. They had all woken up within seconds of each other, and none of them had any idea regarding where they were or how they came to land in P.I.E’s backyard via tornado. Johnny Toast offered them all coffee, which they refused. It was only upon his insistence that they took the steaming mugs from his hands. Toast almost dropped the mug as he handed it to the first boy, because the boy’s hands were freezing cold.

        “You’re freezing,” Toast said suddenly. “Take the coffee and I’ll find you a blanket.”

        “I’m fine,” Jordan insisted, moving away. “Really. Thank you for the coffee.”

        Toast hesitated, but reluctantly backed away and sat down at the chair opposite them. “Alright. Let’s start from the beginning. What do you remember?”

        Jordan thought a moment. “Well, it was a normal night in our house. We were playing video games, and then Cierra found this old computer in our attic. I wasn’t there, but the next thing I knew it was sitting in my room. We tried to fix it, but then Isaac broke it and the screen shattered.”

        “It was an accident,” Isaac added.

        Jordan nodded quickly and continued. “Yeah. So anyway, everything was fine until this smoke started coming out of it. I tried to touch it and then this guy attacked us.”

        “What did he look like?” Asked Ghost.

        Toast coughed, as if to interrupt, but Jordan continued regardless.

        “He had dark brown hair, slightly darker than his,” He gestured to Ghost. “He had a dark blue sweater with, if that mug is correct, your logo on it.”

        Ghost glanced at Toast, who pretended not to notice.

        “It was covered in blood, only some of which were new. He had tattered jeans on, and blood red eyes. He carried a knife with him, too. He said that his name was-”

        “I know who this is,” Ghost interrupted, reclining in his seat. “Jimmy Casket, the worlds most annoying mass murderer in this dimension.”

        “Sir, perhaps I should explain,” Toast said quickly. Ghost sent a glare his way but went silent. “Jimmy Casket is a mass murderer who appeared several years ago. He comes around here often, as he is partially a ghost if our reading serve correct, but as such we... haven’t quite been able to catch him.”  
“Yet,” Ghost added. It had become a goal of his to apprehend Jimmy Casket, even though he had no idea that Casket was just all in his head.

        “We’re trying,” Toast said. “He always seems to slip through our grasp at the right moment. So, all ghosts aside, more about you so we can try to get you home. Which Realm are you from?”

        “Umm...” Bethany said, confused. “‘Realm?’”

        “Y’know, like are you from The Wasteland, Skyrim, here in GMod, or what?” Ghost clarified.

        “They mean a game,” Whispered Isaac, startled. “I think we’ve been sucked into a video game universe.”

        Everyone’s eyes widened and Cierra nudged Jordan, as if asking him to come up with something.

        “Well... It’s a bit complicated.” He started. “We’re-”

        As if on cue, the phone rang, cutting Jordan off. He breathed a sigh of relief.

        “Hold that thought,” Said Toast, getting up to answer it. “Hello?” He said, picking it up.

        “Hewwo?” Said a tiny girl’s voice on the other line. “Mr. Toast? We have a swight pwobwem...”

        Toast held a hand up to the microphone and leaned back. “It’s the Acachallas again,” He said quietly before returning to the call.

        Ghost groaned and flopped onto his back, letting his head dangle off of the back of the chair. “What now?” He mumbled.

        Toast shrugged. “What is it this time, Sally?” He asked calmly.

        “Thewe’s a big lady on the fwont lawn, and she won’t leave,” Sally replied.

        “Sally, give me the phone-” An older lady’s voice joined the conversation. “Hello? P.I.E? It’s us again.” She had apparently taken the phone.

        “Hello Gertrude,” Said Toast. “I have heard that a lady is in your front lawn?”

        “Sally-Betty-Jessica again,” Gertrude confirmed. “As well as Toilet Toucher and s few large animals.”

        “Like Freddy?”

        “That’s one of their names. But they’re nothing like him; They’re tall and humanoid. There’s this fox that keeps running laps around the house and tried to get in. Acachalla shot him with his shotgun, and he got mad. The other three are just kind of sitting around. There’s a bear with a hat, a rabbit with a guitar, and a chicken with a bib. She keeps asking for food at the door.”

        “Where are they now?”

        “Sally Betty Jessica is arguing with Toilet Toucher, so they’re occupied for awhile. The chicken is talking to Sally through the window, and fox is trying to scare Billy through the back door, and Acachalla is yelling at the other two, who are trying to get into the tree house.”

        Toast sighed. “Give me a moment.” He relayed the entire story to Ghost, who slowly began to grow excited.

        “I know what to do!” Ghost said with a determined grin. “Get the laser gun!”

        “Sir, I’m afraid that that won’t be necessary,” Toast said. “First of all, none of them with the exception of Toilet Toucher has been proven hostile, and second of all is that frankly I believe that you are a bit dangerous with that thing.”

        Ghost pouted a bit before dashing upstairs. “I get a pistol though!” He called from his bedroom.

        Toast nodded and returned to the phone. “We’ll be there in a moment.”

        “Great,” Said Gertrude over the phone. “Thanks again!”

        There was a click and Toast turned around. “Well, we certainly can’t leave you here, so why don’t you four tag along?”

        The Frye siblings, who had been sitting in shock ever since the word ‘Acachalla’ was mentioned, nodded slowly.

        Ghost arrived at the bottom of the stairs, wearing his usual attire: A grey hoodie with their logo on it, dark jeans, combat boots, and a sagging belt with a pistol in a holster. “Toast,” He said with a determined gleam in his eye. “We’ve got a case!”


	5. Unwanted Visitors

        The van rumbled to life as Ghost turned the key in the ignition. After an abrupt shudder and a spurt of smoke out of the tailpipe, it lurched forward and into the street. The four children, seated in the back of the van and squished in between various pieces of equipment crammed into the back of it, shifted uncomfortably as Ghost began to whistle carelessly. Toast gave them apologetic looks, which they awkwardly smiled at.

        Bethany picked up a camera tripod, testing the weight in her hands. It was shaped like a crowbar, oddly, and she smiled to herself, mimicking a swing at Isaac playfully. He returned the grin.

        The ride was over rather quickly, much to the siblings’ relief. After a short interval, Ghost parked and opened the door. “Okay, we’re here!” He said to Jordan, Isaac, Bethany and Cierra. “Sorry for the bumpy ride... We really need to get some seats installed back there.”

        “Or perhaps a new van, Sir.” Toast suggested.

        “No,” Ghost said dismissively, getting out of the car. “I couldn’t.”

        “Of course,” Toast replied dryly.

        The back of the van opened and the siblings crawled out, blinking in the sun. They were standing in front of a large house, perhaps two stories judging by the window placement, with a lawn in the front that included several trees. The house was made of brick, but it was singed black with fire or something at the edges of several parts of the building. The glass in one of the top windows was shattered, and there was a sort of shouting coming from inside.

        “You haven’t talked much,” Noted Ghost, picking up a large rectangular box from inside the back of the van. Isaac recognized it as the thing that he was sitting on, and instantly regretted using it as a chair when Ghost frowned at several crooked wires. He shrugged, fixing them. “I suppose it makes sense, having fallen from the sky from some random unknown Realm and everything, but this family... well...” Ghost whistled. “They’re not the quiet type.”

        An explosion and a mechanical scream suddenly sounded from the backyard of the house. There were more human screams that followed, along with a single gunshot and someone yelling about “lettuce squirrels.” Toast bobbed his head. “And thus underlines our point. You can stay in the van, if you like.”

        Cierra spoke for them. “Oh, that’s alright. I’m sure we can handle it.”

        She recieved several questioning looks from her siblings, but she pretended not to notice.

        Ghost smiled, placing the box on the ground and grabbing a small, handheld, blinking piece of equipment. He held it in his hands and pressed a button as the sides popped out, sporting multicolored lights that began making a ruckus and blinking rapidly. “Yep, we have definite paranormal activity here, Toast.” He smiled to himself, like he did whenever something exciting was about to happen. “Looks like a level four. What do you think?”

        Toast glanced at the equipment. “Move it around a bit, Sir.” Ghost moved the device from left to right, and the lights went nuts near the house. “I’d say level five, actually, Sir.”

        “Right. Let’s go!” Before the four siblings could react or Toast could protest, Ghost grabbed a large crate from the back of the van and plopped it down in front of him, opening the top and revealing four different guns and a crowbar. “Merry Christmas, kids. Even though you’re not my kids, and it’s not Christmas.” He chuckled.

        “Sir-!”

        “Take a weapon! We’re dealing with level five’s here.” Ghost smiled, his hand resting on the pistol in his holster. “I don’t think we’ll need any more stuff than this, seeing as they’re all sentient and physical. Let’s go!”

        “Sir...” Toast tried to get his comrade's attention, but he was already charging off, shouting nonsensical things and holding the small device in front of him.

        Toast sighed, following him. “Well, come on. You do know how to shoot, right?”

        The siblings shared nervous looks and slowly nodded. Well, they could shoot in Gmod, and unless this was an elaborate hoax that was where they were.

        “Good. Onwards, adventurers!”

        Jordan laughed, taking a shotgun in his hands. Isaac smiled and picked up a pistol, uncertainly mimicking a shot as if to test it. Bethany took the crowbar without hesitation, handing Cierra a small semi-automatic gun that they recognized from playing Gmod.

        The four walked up to the front door. “Do you think that it’s actually the Acachalla’s house?” Jordan asked.

        Cierra was about to respond, but a loud roar interrupted her. “Fweddy!” Shouted a young girl afterwards. “Come back and give Papa back his wallet!”

        Bethany shrugged. “I would assume so. Let’s go inside; Ghost and Toast are already in there.”

        They knocked on the door, which a woman clad in a green sweater and jeans hastily opened. Her ginger hair was frizzy and pulled back into a bun. Her eyes were distressed as she ushered them inside. “Hello! Toast mentioned you a few moments ago. Quickly, inside. We have some unwanted visitors outside, and you probably don’t want to meet them right now. Papa’s gone and angered them.”

        The lady brought them into the living room, which was right next to the door. There was a large couch and an even larger TV on the wall, with a sign taped to the cabinet below it that read “DO NOT TOUCH” in large print. There was a coffee table with several magazines strewn about it, as well as a few childrens’ books featuring a myriad of different unicorns. The lady sat them down on the couch.

        “I’m Gertrude,” She said, smiling. “Would you like lemonade, or-” She noticed their weaponry. “Oh. You’ve met Johnny Ghost, then.” She laughed. “I’ll be right back.” She walked out of the room and down the hall.

        An awkward silence fell upon the Fryes. “So, ghost invasion at the Acachalla’s.” Said Isaac after a while.

        “Yeah. I think I might be dreaming,” Said Jordan.

        “I hope.” Cierra said.

        “Probably not, but nice positive thinking.” Bethany replied. “How are we here?”

        “I honestly don’t know,” Jordan said truthfully. “Ghost said something about ‘Realms,’ I think. Maybe real life is just one of them.”

        “Perhaps,” Isaac agreed. “We should ask later. But why is everyone from our let’s plays, and not- AAAAGH!”

        An all-too-familiar face in the window.

        A hand reaching through the glass.

        The lights going out.

        They flickered back on and Isaac was gone.

 


	6. Explanations

        "ISAAC!" Someone shouted.

        Gertrude rushed back into the room, dropping the glasses of lemonade that she was holding. The glass shattered, making a mess of the floor. Not as messy as the bloodstained window with a gaping hole in the middle. "What happened?!" She cried. "There were three of you before!"

        Johnny Toast burst into the room, a huge gash down his arm and panting heavily. "Ghost has gone Casket," He wheezed. "It was the fox-" He then noticed that the room was in a panic. "Where's the fourth one?"

        "I don't know!" Cierra said, looking around frantically. "The lights went out, and then he was gone!"

        "It wasn't one of the animatronics," Toast said, furrowing his brow. "They've gotten themselves busy with a poker set I lent them. Toilet Toucher found his way into the bathroom and left, so here's how I see it: One person missing, one psychopath at large. Put the pieces together."

        "Jimmy's the one who attacked us, right?" Bethany asked, acting as if she didn't know. After all, Toast didn't know them and they didn't have enough time to explain how they knew him.

        Toast nodded. "That's right... You don't know. I will explain later, then. For now we need a safe place to hide."

        "What is going on?!" Shouted a man's voice from the next room over. "You haven't broken my TV, have you?"

        The owner of the voice stepped into the room, a shotgun in his hands. His white shirt was stained with various foods, the jean jacket that he wore over it torn in places. He scratched his disheveled beard with his free hand, his bald head reflecting the lights in the room(it was evident that he had not showered in quite some time).

        "Well," Gertrude stuttered. "Honey, there's been an issue-"

        "Yeah, I can tell!" He snapped, voice raspy. "We have robot animals gambling in the backyard. Is the toiler man gone?"

        "Yes, he's gone, and the robots won't hurt us." Gertrude said, ushering him out of the room. "Just go upstairs and... play dolls with Sally."

        "What?!"

        "Yeah Papa! Come play dolls!" A young girl's voice from upstairs shouted enthusiastically.

        "Oh, you've done it now!" Another young voice said, but this time male. The siblings recognized the voice as Billy.

        "Gertrude!" Achachalla shouted. "I will not play with dolls-"

        "Of course you do," Gertrude said hurriedly, pushing him up the stairs. "Have fun, you two!"

        Papa Acachalle went into Sally's room muttering something about "Boxes" and "Hostages."

        Gertrude clapped her hands together. "Now that he's gone, we can get to the bottom of this. Who are you four, where is the fourth, and who took him?"

        "Well," Jordan started.

        "Jimmy Casket-"

        "Our computer-"

        "Exploded and then we-"

        "This huge tunnel-"

        "Ok, stop." Toast said. "One at a time. I am getting the feeling that you four are not from around here. Which Realm do you come from?" He sat down on a chair and waited for a response.

        "Earth, I think." Bethany said uncertainly.

        Toast didn't seem amused. "I mean which realm, not which planet. There are tons of Earths. Which one are you from? The Fallout realm? We've had a few of them get lost here over the last few weeks."

        Jordan glanced at Cierra for a moment. 'Cywren,' he mouthed. Cierra shrugged in response.

        "Do you not remember?" Toast asked. "Realm jumping nor Casket are ever known to cause amnesia, but-"

        "We don't know," Cierra said honestly. "Reality is the most specific-"

        Toast fell out of his chair.

        "What?"

        "You're- You're not from a game!" Toast sputtered.

        "Well, no." Jordan admitted.

        "Makes sense," Toast said. "That's why Casket wants you."

        "Wait, please explain. I still have no idea what's going on," Bethany said. "At all."

        Toast took a deep breath. "I understand. It may take a while to completely understand, but I will do my best to explain. The worlds are divided into various realms, each with a different timeline and different people. Most people have to stay in their own realm, but others are free to come and go. Making sense so far?"

        "Sort of."

        "Good, because it get confusing about here. There is one central Realm, quantum-locked in time so that it never wavers from a specific moment in time. There is a place we refer simply to as 'reality' that can connect to certain realms, but it depends. Whenever reality wants to access a realm, the central one duplicated itself and removes the quantum lock, placing the passage of time in reality's hands. There are many different realms out there, the timelines of each different." Toast took a breath.

        Jordan was beginning to understand. Apparently video games were the realms, and reality could access one of them to "manipulate," or play. When the game is restarted or deleted, a new realm is added or replaced. Okay, made sense so far. Well, as much sense as finding out every single video game was true.

        Toast continued. "You four apparently broke the wrong connection port, or a computer, at the wrong time. Sometimes when they're broken or old, the connection extends just too far and a portal is opened in between them for a short period of time. You want to go home, correct?"

        The siblings nodded in sync.

        "Then we have to overload a realm. It's easy to come here, but hard to come back. Many people go missing in your reality, right?" Toast asked.

        "Well, yeah. Murders and stuff." Cierra said slowly.

        "With no evidence sometimes?"

        "I suppose it's happened before."

        "There's no such thing as a perfect murder," Toast said, as if to prove his point. "They probably ended up here and got lost. It's not so bad, if you're a Traveller."

        "Traveller...?" Jordan asked.

        "Oh, sorry." Toast apologized. "Someone who can travel through the realms. They're hard to come by. I assume that you four are, seeing as you were not damaged in any way during your trip here. If you're not a traveller, then there are a few unpleasant side effects."

        "Like what?"

        "They're not... Fully human anymore."

        "...Oh."

        "You understand how that you're here, we need to find out why." Toast said. "Why would Jimmy attack you?"

        "And how did he show up in my room?" Jordan asked.

        "He's a ghost," Toast replied. "And Mr. Ghost is also partially a traveler. That makes it easier for Casket, whom is not."

        "That's also probably why Ghost is in a lot of other games," Bethany answered. "But Casket only appears with a host."

        Toast snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Did he kill anything?"

        "No, but he cut me pretty bad." Jordan said, rolling up the sleeve of his hoodie, revealing a long, partially healed cut.

        "But he didn't kill, and the wound is only skin deep." Toast observed. "Half travelers can't killoutside of their game without a host. Don't you agree that he would have hurt you worse if he could?"

        "Probably." Said Cierra. "But what does he want? Why does he need us?"

        "You control this realm, right?" Toast said simply. "That makes you valuable. Maybe he needs Jordan as a host and is luring us to him with Isaac."

        "I don't think so," Bethany said hopefully. "We'd probably have a bond with the characters we role-play as. It'd be much easier to take Jordan."

        Toast opened his mouth to counter, but then slowly shut it. "Yes, that seems accurate. That leaves us with nothing, then."

        "Wonderful," Jordan muttered. A short silence of thought ensued.

        "Back to the matter at hand: Where is Isaac?" Cierra interrupted.

        A banging at the back door interrupted their conversation. "Hello?" Said a groggy voice. Everyone, including Gertrude, who had remained silent for most of the explanation, recognized it.

        "Ghost!"

        Toast jumped and ran to the door, opening it to see his teammate standing at the doorstep. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were sleepy, blinking every few seconds as a display of confusion. "What happened?"

        "Where's Casket? I thought that he was the one that took Isaac!" Bethany cried.

        "He was," Toast said. "Sir, are you okay?"

        Ghost yawned. "I think so. I passed out a few minutes ago. What did I miss?"

        "Hold still a minute, Sir." Toast instructed abruptly.

        "What?"

        "Hold still."

        Ghost shrugged and obliged. "Something wrong?"

        "Roll up your sleeve, sir."

        "Okay..."

        Ghost rolled up the cuffs of his sleeve up to his elbow, holding his arm out for Toast. "What is it?"  
"The scar. The scar that Casket gave you." Toast suddenly recoiled. "Wait. You don't know, do you?"

        "Of course I know."

        "You- What?!" Toast shouted, face aghast.

        "I knew about Casket. I always did."

        "But how?!"

        "I forgot to take my pills about two years ago one night, and I began to remember things. Eventually I stopped taking them and kazam, there was my past right there." Ghost shrugged, as if to say no biggie.

        "And you didn't tell me?"

        "Course not!" Ghost snapped. Toast seemed offended, so he quickly explained. "You'd make me take them again. Plus, just making me forget about Casket won't help anything. I need to learn to control him if I'm to-"

        "He's a ghost, Sir! You can't control him!" Toast shouted.

        Ghost was silent for a minute. "...I didn't know that part."

        "Of course you wouldn't. I was the only one to figure it out." Toast said quietly. "And now the scar on your arm is halfway gone. Casket is only partially inside you now."

        "Really?" Ghost said, excited.

        "I don't think he has complete control anymore," Toast said, nodding. "Remember that case in Zimbabwe?"

        "Yeah."

        "The level 6 had spread himself across two different hosts, but couldn't control them both completely?" Toast continued. "It could only manipulate their thoughts until they grew an immunity to it. After that, it was forced to enter just one."

        "Perfect!" Ghost clapped. "He can't control me for a while!"

        "That's only part of my point." Said Toast. "Who is the other host?"

        There was silence in the doorway, until everyone spoke at once.

        "Isaac."

        "If Casket has Isaac, then we need to find out where he's going!" Cierra cried.

        "What should we do?" Asked Bethany, her voice full of anxiety.

        Toast sighed. "I-I don't know. We should find friends who can help. Maybe we could organize a search."

        They began arguing about where to go, trying to name random characters who weren't that insane and might be able to help. Only Johnny Ghost stood silently, thinking.

        Ghost glanced at a picture hung in the hall, examining it closely. Sally stood next to a tall, pale teenager with no face and a suit. Ghost smiled, turning to the three siblings and Toast.

        "Johnny," He said. "I think I have an idea."

 


	7. He's Been Left 4 Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right about now is when things start picking up and the chapters start getting better. If you're reading this, thanks for sticking through the rubbish to get tot his point XD

_Running._

_Voices._

_Running._

_Shouting._

_Why not run?_

_Why stay?_

_Leave them._

_Keep running._

_Ignore the pain._

_Ignore the shouting._

_Keep running._

_He’s here._

_It’s him._

_It’s me._

_It’s us._

_We’re here._

_A bright light._

_A laugh._

_Stop running._

_Jump._

_Fall._

_Gunshot._

_Pain._

 

Isaac was awoken by a bullet suddenly becoming embedded in his leg.

With a shout, he lept to his feet, an overwhelming feeling of vertigo clouding his sense of perception. A dull ringing resounded in his ears, drowning out most of the noise in the area. He became dizzy and fell again, landing on what he realized was a rusty tin roof. He looked down, the world coming into focus. Despite what he believed to be a huge amount of rust, the roof was sturdy and had no clear fault or intention of caving in. He stuck his hand in the rust, and a lot of it stuck to his hand. This was not rust, he discovered.

After all, since when was rust liquid?

He shook off the blood, not sure whether it was his own, and attempted standing again. He began looking around, the ringing fading. The world around him was made up of ruined buildings, surrounded in scorched landscape. Fire poured from the windows, ash raining from the sky like the stormclouds themselves were collapsing. Flames lapped at the streets, figures dashing about madly. Their screams echoed around Isaac, their heads exploding as four figures charged through the center of the horde-

Wait, what?

Isaac strained to see the people and the four gunmen(and women), trying to see clearly what was happening, his eyes finally adjusting to the scene. The people, he noticed almost instantly, were not in fact people. Their bodies were rotting and decayed, screeched coming from their bloody mouths. There were plenty of normal-enough looking ones, appearing like regular civilians that resembled zombies, but others were incredibly deformed.

There was one, who was currently attacking one of the taller members of the human gunmen/women(people?) that was ridiculously fat, easily the width of a small car. Pus oozed from various places on its body as it launched a projectile of vomit at the humans. They deftly dodged, but the substance seemed to rile up the other zombies.

Isaac rubbed his eyes and looked again, having difficulty believing what he was seeing. Another gunshot shook him out of his stunned silence, and he stifled a scream as it whizzed past his head. His leg began to hurt again, and he limped forward to try and get off of the building. He soon realized that a.) That was a very bad idea, and b.) that the bullet had come from one of the survivors, who was aiming a gun at him.

The first of two things that he found wrong with his current situation was that some of what he assumed to be zombies had taken notice of him, and were quickly progressing towards him in a small horde. He turned around and bolted for the other side of the roof, but found that a larger amount of zombies were climbing up that side as well. He searched around for a weapon expecting to find his gun or something, but he couldn’t find it. He probably lost it when he-

_Running._

_Falling._

_Him._

Isaac shook his head, trying to remember how he had gotten here. Not quite the most opportune moment, but then again this was not the most opportune circumstance. Eventually he realized that it didn’t matter now, and he really needed to get off of the roof and to a safe place to hide. A weapon would be useful as of now, and-

“GET DOWN!”

A screech and a blow to his head launched him headfirst into reality as something latched itself onto the top of his head. It lashed its claws at his torso, tearing gashes into his chest. Thankfully they weren’t deep, but they were enough to cause his shirt to turn a deep scarlet and to give him enough motivation to get moving. He fell onto the roof and clawed at the thing on his head as it flung its arms around wildly, trying to get it off. After a short struggle, a warm liquid poured into his face as the thing fell off. He tossed it aside and blinked away the blood in his eyes.

“He’s human,” Said a gruff voice from above him.

“What?” A woman asked in shock. A gunshot went off and a zombie gurgled.

“You heard me.”

There were rushed footsteps as the woman walked up to Isaac, who was still momentarily blinded on the ground. “He is human! Ellis! Coach! Get up here! We’ve got another survivor.”

“If you can’t tell, we’re a bit busy!” Shouted another man from the base of the building. Several gunshots followed the words, and a few zombies howled in pain.

“Hurry!”

Isaac wiped the blood off of his face and looked up, finding himself staring into the barrel of a loaded shotgun. He yelped and backed up, batting it away.

“Whoa there, kid.” Said the man holding the gun, smiling lightly. He wore a white suit jacket with a light blue dress shirt. His white slacks were stained with dirt or blood, torn in places. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Maybe lower the gun, Nick.” Said the woman, kicking a zombie off of the rooftop. She turned and shot another one as it climbed up.

“Fine.” The gun lowered, tilting to the side momentarily to shoot a zombie in the process. Nick extended a hand and helped the speechless Isaac up. “Well, I don’t know how you managed this long, kid, but you better come with us if you want to make it any longer.”

“There’s a safe zone not too far from here,” Said the woman. “We can stock up on weapons there, and get you a gun. The infected almost always find a way inside, but we’ve got at least one night of safety. That should be enough time for you to explain everything, eh?”

Isaac nodded, still stumbling over his words.

“We’d better get moving then, Rochelle.” Said Nick, shooting three zombies and walking to the edge of the roof.

“Right. C’mon kid. We’ve got to hurry, and unlike us, you can’t get bit.” Rochelle said, leading him to the end of the roof. “Careful as you hop down. We’re headed through the building here and then to that building over there. See it?”

Isaac didn’t, but he nodded again anyway.

“Good,” Said Nick. “Whatever you do, don’t get bit. The Green Flu isn’t pleasant, especially if you don’t want to turn out like them. Once you jump down, make a break for it. Hopefully they won’t bother you much yet. Ready?”

Isaac’s silence was the only reply.

“Do you talk?’ Asked Rochelle, looking irritated. “You look like you’re in shock. Been a while since the outbreak, though. It doesn’t work well in a survival situation.”

“I talk,” Isaac managed.

“Good. On three, ready?”

“Ready...”

“Ok. 1, 2, 3... GO!”

All three of them jumped off of the roof and landed on a pile of trash bags, Isaac cringing as his injured leg struck a brick that had fallen out of the building.

Rochelle and Nick stood up swiftly, but Isaac stumbled about for a second before getting to his feet. He limped off of the trash cans as Nick and Rochelle took out several zombies.

“Oh, you’re hurt,” Nick pointed out. “Guess that was my fault. Sorry about that. There’s medical supplies where we’re going, so we’ll fix your leg there.”

“‘sokay,” Isaac mumbled, noticing two figures round the corner with guns drawn. A tall man with a machine gun and a slightly shorter man with a baseball cap dashed toward them, eyes narrowing when they saw Isaac.

“Who’s this?” Growled the taller man.

“A survivor,” Nick responded.

“Is he infected?” Asked the slightly shorter one.

“No.” Rochelle said. “C’mon, we have to move! We’d want someone to do the same for us. Let’s go.”

And thus ended the conversation.

The five of them made a break for it, dashing through the building with gunshots firing like crazy. Now that the focus was not on fighting and rather getting to safety, there was not much time required. The zombies were not the brightest, and only a few actually dangerous ones appeared. There was another fat zombie and one with an abnormally long tongue, which it used to try and strangle Nick. The taller man decapitated it.

“There!” Shouted the shorter man when they got out of the building. “Head for that door!”

Isaac looked ahead, seeing a reinforced door. Everyone ran faster, trying to get inside without needing to kill many zombies. There wasn’t much resistance, so they all made it inside relatively unscathed. Rochelle shut the door behind them and sighed with relief.

“We made it,” She said.

“You were worried?” The shorter man said, smirking.

“No,” She said quickly, glaring. “Just pleased.”

“Fine, fine.” He said, holding up his hands. “Let’s just try to get some sleep.”

“What about his leg?” Nick pointed out.

Isaac silently thanked him for remembering, as it was throbbing terribly. He had done a good job of trying to make it seem like it wasn’t hurting, but in truth it was getting progressively worse. His jeans were stained red, and blood was dripping on the floor.

“Right,” Rochelle said. “There’s a medical kit over there. I’ll fix it.” She turned to Isaac. “Look, kid, sorry you got thrown into this. I don’t think you’re from this realm, so I understand if you don’t want to talk today. Take your time. For now you just have to play along and stay alive, because we’ve been left for dead. And we’ve got to fight to survive.”

Silence fell upon the safe house and everyone began to try and get some rest. Somehow, despite the confusion and the pain, Isaac Frye found himself afraid.


	8. Falling into Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A combination of chapters 9 and 10, since they were both extremely short.

        Toast slammed the car door closed, turning the key in the ignition with such speed that he almost broke it. Mumbling to himself, he glanced behind him to make sure the siblings were inside. Seeing that they were(relatively) safely seated in the back, he slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The van shook for a few moments before lurching forward and then backward, zooming out of the driveway in a haphazard sort of way. Toast muttered a short apology and rocketed onto the empty street.

        A few short intervals passed in awkward silence. Ghost whistled to the tune of “Still Breathing” in the passengers’ seat, propping his legs up on the dashboard. He’d always had a liking for the “louder” variety of music, whereas Toast prefered the classics. He’d tried taking up the violin, but Ghost found it annoying and Toast quickly put an end to that hobby.

        Toast glanced at Johnny Ghost for a moment, expression unreadable. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, clutching it as if his life depended on it. Jordan reasoned that it was most likely because his life might as well be on the line. He was sitting right next to a serial killer, after all. Well, the host of one.

        “Where are we going, anyway?” Ghost asked all of a sudden, his voice making Toast jump. “I mean, we have no idea where Casket’s going.”

        “Good point,” Cierra said. She recieved a look from Bethany, which she ignored.

        “Where would he go to find a gateway between realms?” Ghost asked to no one in particular. “An anomaly, maybe. A place where dimensions ripple and crack, and- Whoa, I just got all Shakespeare right there. Write that down. I wanna remember that I said that if I ever write a book.”

        Toast rolled his eyes.

        “Y’know,” Ghost continued. “I was thinking about birds a few seconds ago and that reminded me. Do you recall the call we received last week? Hey, that rhymed.”

        Jordan noticeably shivered.

        Ghost either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he continued mostly unfazed. “With the interdimensional microwave?”

        “It was not a microwave,” Toast said, not even taking his eyes off of the road. “It was a-”

        “Doesn’t matter,” Ghost insisted. “Not my point. It looks like a microwave. Anyway, don’t you remember what happened?”

        Unexpectedly, Jordan was actually the one to reply. “A rift to the Thirteenth Dimension opened and Officer Maloney sacrificed himself to save everyone.”

        Ghost’s face was twisted into a question mark as he looked at Jordan. “How did you know?”

        Toast took five seconds and explained it all in a tense tone. None of the siblings could actually understand the jumbled words that tumbled from his mouth, but Ghost evidently got the jist of it.

        “Well alright then,” Ghost said, not the least bit of astonishment or even surprise in his tone. “That clears things up. Now we know what Casket wants.”

        “And what would that be?” Toast asked, sarcasm lacing his words. His mood was sour.

        Ghost was about to respond, but a sudden throbbing pain in his head caused him to cringe and gasp. Toast’s eyes widened and he swerved the car off of the road, hitting three trash cans in the process of pulling over.

        “Sir, are you alright?!” He asked.

        Ghost opened his eyes, weakly smiled and nodded. “Y-yeah. I’m fine. Just a headache. No big deal.”

        Toast didn’t seem convinced. “Sir, take some medicine and try to calm down. I-”  
        

        “I’m fine,” Ghost insisted stubbornly. “Now, I think I know where Casket went.”

        “How?” asked Toast, unamused.

        “Well, he took Isaac somewhere, right? Somewhere where there would be an anomaly? Do you recall where we dumped the portal to the thirteenth dimension?” Ghost said, rolling his eyes as if it were obvious.

        Toast facepalmed. “Of course! I don’t know how we didn’t see this before.” Toast slammed on the gas and floored it onto the road just as the owner of the toppled trash cans went outside to see the commotion. The guy who owned the cans(a grumpy old guy) started shouting at Toast as they drove away. Ghost scowled.

        “Children, please turn away.” He said, then proceeding to make a rude gesture to the angry man. The man barked a few more insults and then disappeared as they rounded the curve. Toast voiced his disapproval, but Ghost wouldn’t hear it. “He insulted you,” Ghost said simply. “And that won’t fly with me. Now! Kids, have you ever heard of Creepypasta High School?”

        The siblings shared a smile.

***

Creepypasta High School was a quiet, grey building that was spread across a large campus. Most of the grounds was made up of concrete and dead grass, the odd magazine clipping or candid pieces of trash floating around in the wind. The city formed a large barrier on all sides, as if it was trying to avoid it.

And rightly so.

The rickety white van that pulled into the barren parking lot matched its surroundings, rumbling as the engine died. Smoke tumbled out of the tailpipe as it shuddered into one of the many available parking spots, lurching to and fro. The driver mumbled to himself as he slipped out of the van, his comrade as casual as could be. The three passengers in the back of the vehicle waited for the driver to open the exit before they got out one by one, standing on the crumbly pavement.

“It’s Saturday,” Said Johnny Toast, closing the back and starting toward the entrance of the school. “So the students shouldn’t be here. Normally I’d say that that would be better for you, but you apparently you already know all about them.”

“Yeah, we do.” Said Cierra.

The five of them passed the sign at the front gate, which read “Creepypasta High School.”

“Toast, lemme go fist. I’ve got the key.” Said Ghost, searching through the pocket of his jeans. “At least I think I- Wait nevermind. Here it is.” He fished a small key out of his pocket. He stepped forward and unlocked the door, letting all of them into the office.

“Thanks,” Said Bethany as Toast held the door open for them.

Toast smiled and nodded in response.

The office was a quaint little room, with red carpets and tan painted walls. Curtains ung from the windows, casting a slight shadow on the place. There was an empty receptionist’s desk that was coated in a thin layer of dust, as it had evidently not been used in a while. Ghost ran his hand across the desk, picked up as much dust as possible, and promptly blew it all over Toast’s face. Toast frowned, unamused.

They left the office and into the central courtyard, which was basically a large area that resembled a huge slab of sidewalk with buildings all around and above it. It wasn’t like any school that Jordan, Cierra, or Bethany had ever seen in real life, but they recognized it from the Creepypasta High School roleplays.

“This way,” Said Ghost. “There’s an entrance to the basement over here, which is where-”

“DUDE! GIVE ME BACK MY KNIFE!” Someone shouted, cutting Toast off.

Someone was in the classroom positioned directly above them, as there were footsteps and scuffling noises. Someone evidently tripped, because there was then an “agh!” and a large thump.

“Who’s there?” Ghost shouted, using the stern, almost angry-sounding voice that he rarely took advantage of.

“Shoot, Ghost’s here. Everyone scram!” Said another voice.

Ghost apparently recognized it. “JEFF EUGINE KILLER! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

“You’re not the principal anymore!” Shouted a different voice in support. “You got fired last month!”

“I’m still a paranormal Investigator, Slender!” Shouted Ghost, crossing his arms. “I’ll send you to the 13th dimension if you don’t get down here right now!”

“Okayokayokay we’re coming!” The voice identified as Slender said hastily. “Wait, what are you do-AGH!”

The window above them shattered and Slender fell out of it, landing in a shrubbery a few feet away. He stood up and glared at his shorter companion Jeff, who was laughing his head off above him.

“Hey!”

“Stairs are overrated. You’re there faster now!”

Slendy glared again(though it was hard to see due to the lack of face), and walked over to Ghost and Toast. “Hey, Mr. Toast. And Mr. Ghost too.” He added.

Jeff the Killer and Rake suddenly burst out of the door. “Hi!” They said.

Ghost didn’t seem amused. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“We go here,” Said Rake simply, holding something in his hands.

“It’s Saturday! There’s no school on Saturday!” Exclaimed Toast.

“Well...” Rake’s voice faltered, and Jeff nudged im in the shoulder. Rake his the thing in his hands behind his back.

Toast frowned. “What is that?”

Rake looked up at him innocently. “What is what?”

“Oh don’t play games. What is the thing you just hid behind your back?” Ghost said, tapping his foot.

Rake shifted his weight from foot to foot. “It’s... well...” He stammered. He held out the item. “We were bored.”

Ghost took the item from Rake, which turned out to be a roll of toilet paper. “Care to explain to Principal Buttkicker why you were toilet papering the school on a Saturday?”

“Nononono!” All of them shouted at once, stumbling over their words.

“Good. Then help us bust into the basement to get the portal to the 13th dimension.” Ghost said simply.

Slendy just stared. “So you’re having our punishment for getting in trouble be the possibility of getting into more trouble?”

“Precisely.” Said Ghost before Toast could correct him. “Now Rake, break the window and get into your Principal’s office. Go. Shoo.”

Rake snickered under his breath. “No problem.” He rushed off towards the office.

Jeff turned to Toast. “Are you agreeing with him?” He asked skeptically.

“Not quite,” Toast frowned in response. “But I don’t see another way that he would agree with.”

Rake returned a few minutes later with a small key and a triumphant look on his face. “Got it,” He said proudly.

“Good,” Said Ghost. “We’re racing with a murderer here; let’s move!” He led them all towards the basement.

“Wait, what?” Slendy asked Jeff. Jeff shrugged.

They arrived at the basement door, which Rake unlocked. Ghost thanked him and ushered everyone inside. The basement was a damp and dreary place, made up of multiple rooms connected by short hallways lit by overhead lights that flickered every now and again. There were random boxes and items scattered about, damaged with who-knows-how-long of neglect. Rust covered most of the metal variety, whereas the boxes were edged with mold and mildew as the ceiling dripped water(or at least what they assumed to be water) onto them.

“Okay everyone,” Said Toast. “Start looking. Jordan, Cierra, Jeff, you’re with me over here. Ghost, you take the rest and-”

“Found it.” Johnny Ghost held up the microwave-looking device in his hands and smiled cheekily at Toast, who rolled his eyes.

“Good. Now set it over there and let’s see if we can create an anomoly to get us to wherever Isaac was.” He said.

“It’s still warm,” Said Ghost, feeling the top. “They were just here. Lemme see if I can- AAAAAAGH!” Ghost screamed louder than anyone thought humanly possible, dropping the device and stumbling back. He fell to his knees and clutched his head in pain, shaking like a leaf in a typhoon.

Toast was at his side in a second. “Sir? Sir, are you alright?” He said, panicked.

Ghost looked up at him with pained eyes. “He-he-he-he...” He stammered, eyes flickering.

“‘He’ what?” Asked Jordan to no one in particular. He, too, was frightened(as was everyone else), but he was trying his best not to show it.

Ghost’s eyes rolled back into his head, he fell over, and stopped shaking. Toast tried to shake him awake, but not a second passed before Ghost flung his hand out and shoved Toast away. He looked up, eyes flaring a blazing red. “It’s me!” He smiled darkly.

Toast gasped and quite nearly choked. “Casket!” He shouted. “That... that was you in the car, wasn’t it! I should have known-”

Ghost, now Casket, got up and dusted his now-bloody jeans off. “Yeah, but ya didn’t, didja? Forgot that I don’t wanna get rid of Ghost just yet.”

Toast balled his fists. “If you lay even a finger on him-”

“You’ll what?” Casket laughed. “You can’t hurt me without hurting him. So what are you gonna do, huh? I’ll give ya a second to think.” He proceeded to wait exactly a second before laughing again. “Nothing!”

“What are you going to do?” Slendy asked nervously.

“What am I gonna do?” Casket mimicked, picking up a knife that he had clearly left here. “First, I’m gonna get rid of all of you, and then-”  
“How?” Blurted Jeff.

The madman lunged at him with his knife. “Quit interrupting!” He shouted, frustrated. “I can’t have you here for when Ghost becomes me.”

“WHAT?!” Toast practically screamed. “You’re going to bloody take him over?! You can’t do that!”

“Oh, but I can,” Casket smiled. “His entire life, I’ve waited. 23 whole years, I’ve sat in waiting with only partial control. But now you three wandered along at the perfect time, and you’re going to help me.”  
“What are we going to do?” Bethany sputtered. “Help you?”

Casked nodded matter-of-factly. “Yep. You three control... Everything. If you really want it to be, then I’d get full control. The annoying thing is, you don’t want that. Fortunately I’ve found a solution.”  
“And what would that be?” Cierra asked sarcastically.

“Well, I’m glad you asked.” Said Casket. “When one’s life is on the line, one will do crazy things. However, when one’s sibling’s life is on the line, then they’ll do even crazier things for even crazier people.”  
“Isaac,” Said Toast. “What did you do?”

Casket shrugged innocently. “Oh, nothing. I just sent him headfirst into a zombie apocalypse.”  
“NO!” Jordan jumped at Casket, and had to be restrained by Jeff and Slendy. “GET HIM OUT OF THERE!”  
Casket seemed amused. “I have a better idea. Here’s how it’s gonna work: If you come out of your game alive, then he lives. If Cierra comes out of hers, you live. Bethany, Cierra lives. Isaac, Bethany. But under one condition: I get Ghost. Sound fair? I needja gone long enough to get control, okay? So don’t come running back.”

They exchanged glances, with Toast looking at them with a pleading expression. “Please, there has to be another way!” He begged. “I’ve spent many years trying to keep him safe, and I won’t let you change anything!”

“This is the only way, Toaster!” Casket said, rather amused with himself. “And anyway, you ain’t got a say in this. And neither do you kids. Scram!” He said, stamping his foot at the Creepypastas, who went running from the room. “Good.”

Toast sighed, looking at the siblings with conflicted emotions. He then sighed, his hands shaking. “If there’s no other way, then... fine.” He said after awhile. “Come back quickly, please. There may still be hope for him-”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Casket cut in. frowning. “Now that everything's settled, I don’t need you anymore, Toaster. Goodbye~!” He said in a singsong tone, striking Toast suddenly with the hilt of his blade and knocking him out. “Cheerio, old chap!” He said mimicking Toast’s voice as he shoved him under a nearby couch. “That should be okay for now.” He decided.

The siblings simply watched in horror as Casket fiddled with the device until a orange vortex glowed from within. “Now, who’s next?” He said. “How about you?” He said to Jordan.

Before he could protest, Casket stuck Jordan’s hand into the vortex and he dissolved into code, getting sucked into the portal. He pushed a button and the vortex turned green. Bethany was next. The vortex turned white and he pushed Cierra in, without much resistance. When the job was done, he slammed the microwave door shut and the vortex closed.

He laughed to himself in the dim light of the basement. Everything was going to plan, which was just as he had expected. Toast was subdued for now, and Ghost was gone for as much as he cared. He flexed his knife hand, able to move it more easily than he had before with Ghost fighting him for control all the time, even when he was not aware of it. The siblings had done as they were supposed to.

The madman smiled. He was feeling stronger already.


	9. Welcome to the Wasteland

        The sun was high in the barren landscape, positioned right in the center of the sky. The air was hot and thick with the summer heat, but as was to be expected in the Wasteland. There was an odd ringing noise as the light beat down on the scattered pieces of metal and rusted cars that had been overturned and riddled with bulletholes, burn marks, or other things of that manner. There was little noise in this part of the Wasteland besides the normal white noise that you were usually presented with upon going outside. The nearest town was Megaton, which was quite a ways away. This was the closest thing to silence that you could achieve here, really, in the far corners of this place.

        Unfortunately for the small group of people crossing through this area, that was about to change extremely quickly.

        In a flash, the sky erupted with an orange blast, sending lightning of the same color lashing out of a huge, almost black hole-looking vortex. A tornado of what looked like orange flame extended form the vortex, creating a swirling central of chaos that sent the once-quiet area into jumbling chaos. Just as before, the vortex pulsed, flashed white, and eventually faded, leaving nothing but a smoking crater in its wake.

        It was a good fifteen minutes before someone came over the gorge to see. A ginger girl and her darker-haired companion appeared on the top of a cliffside, the girl dragging to boy along.

        “Timebomb, I know I saw something!” She was saying. “Just shut up and c’mon.”

        The boy, Timebomb, sighed but reluctantly followed. “We have to get back before Eliza yells at us, though.”

        “Since when do you care about getting into trouble?” The girl called, already halfway down the cliff. “And look, there’s a crater over there. Something did happen!”

        Timebomb rolled his eyes and followed, keeping one had on the gun he had strapped to his belt. He was always the more “sensible” one when it came to adventure, shooting whatever moved. He kept a stoic expression, though it was mostly for Cywren’s sake. Cywren was more of the “evaluate all possible situations” problem solver.

        Speaking of Cywren, she had found her way to the giant crater already.

        Timebomb quickened his pace and caught up with her, breathing heavily. “What is it?” He asked, trying to sound not interested.

        “There’s someone there,” Cywren replied, adjusting her glasses and stepping into the crater.

        “What?!” Timebomb exclaimed, losing his cool and leaning over the crater. Indeed, there was a limp figure lying in the dust. “Who’s that?!”

        Cywren shrugged, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up,” She said. “Hey-”

        Timebomb frowned. “Stop. We don’t know if he’s a hostile.”

        She rolled her eyes but agreed, stepping back. “Fine. But- Oh, don’t do that.”

        Timebomb had taken his gun out of the holster and was aiming it at the figure. “What?” He asked, in general confusion as to what he’d done wrong. “It’s a safety precaution.”

        “Don’t come off assuming that every single person wants to kill you,” Cywren scolded. “They could be nice.”

        “Oh come on, that doesn’t work in the Wasteland.” Timebomb said, reluctantly lowering his gun. “You’ve spent too much time in the vault.”

        Cywren playfully punched his shoulder.

        The blue-clad figure in the crater shifted, mumbling to himself. Timebomb tensed and raised his gun yet again, much to Cywren’s protest. The figure shakily sat up, facing away from him.

        Timebomb stepped into the crater, aiming the gun at his head. The figure turned around, his brown hair falling into his eyes. He let out a small yelp at the sight of the gun.

        “Who the hell are you? **"**


	10. "I'm Speaking in an Accent!"

        _“Hello and welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center.”_

        Cierra opened her eyes, the brilliant white light from the ceiling blinding her for a short interval. She blinked, the surrounding area almost completely white. After she had regained her ability of sight to some degree, she sat up, glancing around her.

        “You have been in suspension for [insert time here] days,” The voice replied, seeming extremely mechanical and evidently male. It was modulated and completely unrushed, as if it had all the time in the world to explain exactly what was going on.

        Cierra sat up, able to actually see now. She was in a small room with completely jet black walls, and a huge gaping hole in the ceiling and the floor, leading to what appeared to be an endless void of collapsing decay on either side. She didn’t know where she was, and honestly the idea she had in her head wasn’t the most pleasant. The entire room appeared to be a collective grouping of panels organized in small cubes to create a singular structure. The black panels underneath where she sat, she noticed, were charred and indented. Above her was a yawning hole, a single pinprick of light above her.

        She had no idea how she survived, until she noticed the pair of odd boots strapped to her feet. They matched the overall “techy” feeling of this place, being white and sleek, with a curved black piece of metal arcing around the heel and coming to an end at the foot. She stood up, testing the boots. Oddly, she didn’t feel any resistance when her feet touched the ground, as if the boots absorbed any shock it came into contact with. Somehow she landed on her feet when she fell, leaving only mild cuts and bruises.

        By some miracle.

        “Please proceed with test-” The modulated voice suddenly frizzled out, replaced by a colder and more sinister one.

        “Who might you be?”

        Cierra shivered. The voice was female, mechanical, and her tone was laced with a chilling tone. The worst part was that it was all too familiar.

        “And, I might ask, where did you come from?” Despite the fact that the questions were innocent enough, somehow every single word was as if it was “One wrong move and you’re dead” instead of “Hi!”

        Cierra didn’t respond.

        “Another silent one.” The voice said irritably. “But admittedly in much better shape than _her_. I suppose I didn’t clean out this chamber well enough.”

        As if on cue, there was a hiss as the circular door behind Cierra slid open, and a figure stepped through. She was about as tall as Cierra, with dark hair held back in a ponytail and brown eyes that scanned the chamber curiously. She wore a white tank top that read “Aperture Science Laboratories” and a orange jumpsuit that she had tied around her waist. She wore the same boots as Cierra did, but carried a gun in her hands rather than nothing.

        The woman paused and looked at Cierra, surprise evident in her expression. She quickly recovered and walked closer to her, hesitant.

        “Apologies for not cleaning out the chamber as I was supposed to. There appears to be a piece of trash left.” The voice said, emotionlessly.

        Cierra realized that the voice was talking about her, and for some reason became instantly afraid. The voice held a sort of authoritarian feeling, and she didn’t want to see how accurate it was.

        “Give me a moment and I’ll get rid of it.”

        The woman, much to Cierra’s surprise, scowled and shook her head, crossing her arms indignantly.

        “Oh, stop it. This is not the cooperative-” The voice stopped itself abruptly and cleared its throat. “This test is meant for one. Give me a moment. Don’t move.”

        One of the panels that Cierra had been sitting on shifted, and was suddenly suspended in the air by a thin, jointed piece of metal. It moved around and started recoiling, as if it was going to launch her off into the chasm.

        Now that she thought about it, that was probably exactly what it was going to do.

        Before she could contemplate her escape ideas, the lights went out, The panel went limp and Cierra climbed off of it hastily before it could change its mind.

        “What? What’s going on?” The voice seemed generally surprised.

        Suddenly, Ceirra heard another voice coming from her right side. “Hey buddy!”

        Both she and the mute woman turned toward the source of the voice. One of the panels was hanging off to the side, revealing a small space behind it. A little metal sphere hung from the ceiling, a blue optic positioned in its center. The sphere turned out to be a small robot, hanging from a rail.

        A look of recognition and relief flashed across the woman’s face as she approached the robot and the slacked panel. Cierra followed.

        “I’m speaking in an accent,” It said, trying to sound American. “That’s beyond her range of hearing!”

        “Look, metal ball,” The voice said, trying its hardest not to show how immensely irritated it was. “I can still hear you.”

        “Okay, don’t need the voice!” The robot said, his voice turning british in terms of accents. That would explain the poorly faked American accent earlier. “RUN!”

        Nether Cierra nor the woman needed to be told twice.


	11. Achievement Get: Lost

        At first, there was peace.

        ...Again.

        The grass in scattered clumps across the forest swayed peacefully in the wind, the clouds above drifting lazily across the endless expanse of blue. A large, rectangular sun was just above the mountaintops visible in the distance, casting an array of light across the landscape.

        A cow let out a short ‘moo’ of displeasure as a sheep walked right over where it was grazing, and the sheep offered an apologetic look in response. A few pigs clambered haphazardly over one of the cliff sides, making their way to who-knows-where. A small village sat at the base of a large mountain, a larger house made of stone seemingly carved into said mountain at the far side of the village. The rest of the houses were simple structures, constructed using wood, or cobblestone, or something of a similar function. They few denizens of the village were just waking up in the new morning, stirring in their houses or walking around the gravel pathways sleepily.

        But of course, as you and I know, there is no such thing as peace. The concept of peace is simply the world holding its breath, waiting for something else to happen. Fortunately for this world, something was indeed about to happen.

        In a flash of green, a shimmering vortex opened itself up in the sky, sending lightning of the same pigment cascading down to the ground, lashing like whips at the ground. The once-blue sky clouded over with light, pulsing and receding and then pulsing again as the vortex extended into a swirling green tornado. It was a fantastical sight, but unfortunately for the few witnessing it, there was no time to appreciate it. 

        As quickly as it appeared, the vortex dissipated, evaporating in a massive flash the very instant it touched the ground. The tornado collapsed in on itself and the lightning ceased its torrent of blows, simply vanishing into thin air. The vortex paused, pulsed, eventually faded away. The only proof of its existence was a small crater in the center of the forest, cindering ashes surrounding it.

        There was a short interval where absolutely nothing happened, as the world held its breath again. 

        And then everything descended into chaos.

        The village, as expected, was in an uproar as everyone flocked out of their houses and congregated in the streets, shouting or chattering in frightened tones. Eventually the majority of the villagers gathered outside the house that was built into the mountain, pausing to argue briefly over who was to knock. After a brief squabble, a shorter boy was eventually convinced to wake up the mayor, most likely swayed by a bribe of cookies. He hesitantly walked up to the door, a hint of fear echoing in his eyes. He was not, of course, afraid of the mayor, but of his brother. The mayor of the village was a nice man, selfless and brave in the best way. His brother, though, was more… temperamental. You could never tell if the look in his vacant white eyes signaled that he wanted to kill you or he was pleased, but most of the time it didn’t matter because it could change in the matter of moments.

        The boy walked up to the door and paused, glancing back at the expectant crowd with an irritated expression. After the looks of expectancy shifted to annoyance at his hesitation, he took a few more steps forward and raised his hand.

        He knocked once, twice, three times before quickly stepping back. The door swung open a few second later, and the boy let out his breath that he hadn’t even realized that he was holding in the first place. The man in the doorway had a sleepy expression of confusion, leaning on the door with a tired look in his blue eyes.

        “Hello,” He said, trying to sound chipper but ultimately failing in the long run. He then noticed the crowd of about thirty people standing behind the boy. “Erm… Is there a problem…? Or something…?”

        There was a short period of mumbles as the crowd tried to explain, but then quickly decided against it and once again looked to the boy. The boy let out an exasperated sigh and quickly summed up the events of the morning in a short few sentences.

        The man was silent for a moment, thinking hard. He looked up. “Once second. I’ll get ready and we’ll go and scout the area that the… what was it again?”  
        The boy glanced back at the crowd, and then looked at the man again. “A vortex, I think.” He concluded.

        The man nodded. “Right. I’ll get ready. If we’re not back within the hour, send out… Someone. Right, someone. Be back in a moment!”

        With that he turned, offered a smile for the crowd, and walked back into the house, the door closing behind him.

***

        The house was, for the most part, completely silent. Torches hung from the walls, flames crackling at their tip and providing a form of light. There were large windows on most of the front walls, also being used as illumination. Paintings and decorations were common throughout most of the rooms, and two staircases led to an upstairs area that was slightly less bright. The entire building held a sort of pleasant feeling. Warm and bright and nice, like a proper home should be.

        It was at this moment that everything exploded.

        Well, not quite. Perhaps that is an overstatement. Rather, the bedroom to the left of the staircase had its door blown off by an explosion from inside. A few seconds after this happened, someone started shouting from inside and the man from downstairs, having been steadily walking up the stairs, began charging as fast as he could towards the exploded room.

        Breathing heavily, the man burst through the doorway. “Are you… okay?” He gasped, leaning on the doorframe. “What happened?”

        The sight that he was met with was quite possible the exact opposite of what one would want to see on a Tuesday morning. The entire interior of the room was scorched a dark charred color, the edges of practically everything singed with ashes. The figure sitting in the center of the mess was not in fact hurt, but rather annoyed beyond the comprehension of most people in such a situation. His entire face was burned, and the front of his blue shirt was charred to a crisp. His jeans had holes in them form the explosion, and to be brief he looked like a mess.

        “Stupid.” He said, his green eyes narrowed. “Too much gunpowder.”

        The man in the doorway sighed. “You think?”

        Potion equipment, or what used to be potion equipment, was scattered around the room as well, shattered or contorted into odd shaped from the heat. The man looked at them, frowning. “How… late were you up?”

        The man on the floor scowled. “Not late enough.”

        A sigh. “You haven’t slept in days, Bry. It’s not healthy.”

        Bry looked up. “But I’m so close! It’s just a matter of measurements…” He trailed off. “I’ve been working on this potion for a very long time, and-“

        “I know, I know.” Said the man, having heard this argument time and time again. “But take a break. You could have been really hurt. Please?”

        Bry frowned. After a moment, he reluctantly nodded. “…Fine. One day.”

        The man nodded in approval. “Good. Now get ready, because we’ve got a mission.”

        Bry groaned. “What now?”

        “Swirling vortex in the sky, apparently.” The man explained. “Appeared a few minutes ago and left something in the forest. We’re gonna go find it.”

        Now interested, Bry stood up. “Give me ten minutes.” With that, he ran from the room.

        The man sighed and leaned the discarded door against the frame. He abruptly turned and walked from the room, grabbing a sword and pickaxe that had been dropped in the rush. Slinging the pick across his back and strapping the sword to his belt, he made his way out of the house to wait for Bry.

        Walking out of the doorway, he stepped into the light and the adventure to come.

 


	12. A Breif Interlude With our Favorite Murderer

        The basement was cold and dark, just as somber (if not more so) than when they had left. It was relatively abandoned, the only proof of the events prior being the missing thirteenth dimension portal, and an unconscious paranormal investigator haphazardly stuffed under the tattered couch.

        The courtyard, however, was another matter entirely.

        Jimmy Casket, his traditional flare for theatrics showing entirely, had turned the place into basically his own personal theater. With a bit of assistance from the various ghosts at the school(mainly a Toilet Toucher, whom he had bribed with various collections of candies), he had managed to open a one-way viewing portal to the sibling’s realms. He had them set up in a circle around him, and he sat in the center. He watched their little misadventures with amusement.

        Isaac, at this moment, was just making his way to the first safe zone with the assistance of his new allies. Of course, you and I have both already witnessed this, but let us assume that time fluctuates between realms.

        Let’s give the story the benefit of the doubt.

        Jimmy Casket sat in the center of the vortexes, staring wide eyed at the portals that glowed in front of him. His eyes were not, in fact, wide with fear or surprise or anything of the sort, but wide with amusement at the chaos that he created. Ah, chaos. It was his strong suit, he found, to destroy rather than create. He reveled in the chaos, causing it everywhere he happened to step foot. It was a natural talent.

        Well, a _given_ talent, more like.

        He frowned involuntarily at the thought. The siblings controlled everything, and it bothered him to some extent. Why them and not him? His extremely limited sense of common sense reasoned that it was because he was conjured into being by their own imagination, and thus their control was a given part of his equation. But of course, his effort in actually listening to the reasoning was minimal.

_It’s right, you know.  
_

        A voice appeared in his head. He smiled and chuckled to himself, leaning forward to let his bangs fall into his eyes. “So you’ve decided to talk.”

        The voice huffed inside his head. _It’s not like I could have before now._

        “So the famous Johnny Ghost is stuck inside the voice in his head,” Jimmy said to himself, mockingly. “Tables have turned, have they?”

 _Well, yeah._ The voice said, seemingly bored. _Not like it’s my fault._

        “I won,” Said Jimmy, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve lost.”

_But you cheated._

        “Cheating is just taking advantage of the situation,” Said Casket. “And twisting it to your liking. It worked out for me in the end, right?”

        The voice scoffed. _You talk like this is all over. It’s not the end. You know that, don’t you?_

        Jimmy didn’t seem unnerved in the slightest. “Of course it’s not over.”

 _Good._ Said the voice.

        There was a very long silence.

        Isaac fell from the building, his foot striking a loose brick. Jimmy’s face had an unreadable expression as he reached into a pile of scattered foods and pulled out a medical kit, throwing it into the portal where it landed on Isaac. It dissolved into tiny floating specks and flew onto Isaac’s leg. The wound didn’t change, but it defiantly helped him with the bleeding and pain.

_So you do have a heart.  
_

        Jimmy scoffed. “Right.”

        The voice was amused. _You saved him._

        “Nah,” Said Casket, leaning back and reaching his hand into the pile of food that he the had taken the medkit out of, where there were chocolates and, as expected, heavily sugary or caffeinated beverages and food. He found a thermos of coffee and took a sip. He’d stolen them from the cafeteria. “I’m just drawing it out. I still need to have some fun before I let this whole game end.”

 _And is that what this is to you?_ The voice said, tone full of disapproval. _There lives on the line simply for the benefit of your power, a game?_

        Casket shrugged, toying with his knife in his hands. “That’s what we’re in, isn’t it?”

        The voice didn’t respond.


	13. Curiosity Doomed the Cat

****

Isaac awoke to screaming and gunfire. One moment, he was asleep, trying to convince himself that this crazy mess was all just some sick and warped dream, and that any moment he would wake up and be at home. Of course, the moment the safehouse doors opened and he woke up that fantasy shattered, spiraling into a thousand pieces and being replaced by the war and chaos that was reality. 

A shriek from far beyond the doors was the first thing that the survivors heard on that chilly morning, as the smog from outside drifted inside and caused them to shudder in their sleep. One of the Special Infecteds had evidently been waiting outside (a hunter to be precise), and leapt into the room and gave Nick a nasty scratch in the arm. Nick awoke with a start and threw the zombie off of him, reaching for one of the guns o the table and blowing off said zombie’s head. Blood splattered all over Rochelle and Ellis’s face, which was what woke them up. Coach woke up a few minutes later, shouting about how they were snoring too loud. After he was belittled with snide remarks about his sense of hearing and countered that they could sound incredibly like zombies when they wanted too, he turned and woke up Isaac.

Isaac was slower to wake than the others, rolling around for a few seconds and then opening his eyes.

“Kid, get up! The doors are open!” Ellis said, grabbing a gun. “Ain’t got time to lose!”

Isaac was confused for about a sixteenth of a picosecond, before he remembered the events of the previous day.

Crap.

A little bit too quickly, he stood up and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He got dizzy and the room spun for a second before coming into focus.

“O-okay.” He said shakily. “I’m up.”

“Good,” Said Rochelle. She tossed him a shotgun, which he caught, dropped, and then finally picked up. “Let’s move.”

Isaac nodded, fingering the weapon in his hands. Despite the myriad of times that he’d used the exact same gun in the game in which he now found himself trapped, he had no idea how to fire it besides the basic “use the thing to reload the thing and then pull the trigger.” He didn’t account for recoil or anything of the sort, unfortunately.

“Follow me,” Said Nick, nodding towards the door. “We’ll explain on the way.”

“A-alright,” Stammered Isaac, following. “What do I do?”

“Honestly?” Laughed Ellis, as if this was an everyday thing for them. Which, Isaac reasoned, it probably was. “Shoot anything that moves!” After Isaac’s blank expression, he added “Except for us of course.”

“You boys finished talking?” Rochelle said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s see how much ground we can cover before the infecteds realize that we’re alive.”

Ellis nodded. “Right. Let’s go, then!”

The five of them charged out of the safehouse, Isaac taking the back. The air outside was thick with the odor of gasoline and petrol, smog covering the skies. Smoke billowed in tall towers in the distance, the sound of screeching echoing throughout the landscape of the ruined city.

Isaac coughed, covering his eyes. He wasn’t able to take in the dismal view for long, as the group was already charging forward away from the safehouse at speeds that Isaac didn’t think possible of people who had just woken up. Blinking away the dizziness in his eyes, he followed loyally.

A screech signaled that the infecteds had put two and two together and figured out that the humans had woken up and were still alive. There was a sudden onslaught of zombies. They swarmed around the area like ants on honey, minus the useful side effect of getting stuck in the metaphorical honey, as fortunate as that might have been.

Isaac took a few shaky breaths, readying his gun. “Does that count as moving?” He asked, trying his best to be calm.

Ellis nodded, grinning. “Yep. Fire away!” He crowed as everyone opened fire on the horde. Isaac included. The recoil was a bit for him to get used to at first, but eventually he started to get the hang of it.

They exited the area, which resembled a crumbled building and into the open street, blood painting the streets. Decay littered the abandoned town, with oddly no bodies. Isaac reasoned that this was because all of said dead bodies were the reanimated corpses that were currently trying to kill them.

Many of the zombies attacked, but none of them proved to be a large threat against the weaponry that Isaac and his allies possessed. There was the odd fast zombie(which Rochelle had called a “hunter”), which was extremely fast and reminded Isaac of the odd little things from Ocarina of Time that clung to your face. They creeped him out, so he made sure to shoot them whenever they appeared.

Everything proceeded as planned from then on out. A few more of the Special Infecteds appeared, but most of the time he was instructed to stay back while the others took care of it. He half wished that he could see them in the flesh, but his more sensible half reasoned that he probably would be dead. He sided with the latter.

“The next safehouse is up ahead!” Coach called, breathing heavily as he tossed aside his gun to replace it with a discarded chainsaw.

Isaac nodded. “Right!” They were so close! Just a bit more to go and then he would be _that_ much closer to home. Which mean that he was that much closer to his siblings as well.

Lost in the thoughts of his happy daydream, he didn’t even notice the Special Infected hiding in the rubble of the ruined house that he was passing. He also didn’t notice that he had strayed a few feet from the group, who were occupied with a large zombie that resembled The Hulk. The final and quite possibly the worst thing that Isaac neglected to take a note of was the fact that the particular Special Infected happened to be running after him at a very high speed.

“LOOK OUT!” Shouted someone towards Isaac.

Isaac assumed that they weren’t talking to him, since as far as he was concerned they had a lot more to deal with than him.

That was a mistake.

The Special Infected screeched and lunged at him, lashing its abnormally long tongue that dripped with some green residue. Half of the thing’s face was mutilated by deformity, the skin forming bubbles that dripped down onto its chest. A tentacle like growth protruded from its back, following its movements. It was, in short, a monster.

Isaac turned around a fraction of a second too late and the thing’s tongue wrapped around his neck, strangling him. He gagged, coughing and dropping his gun. The thing yanked him back, the tongue acting as an extra limb. Isaac’s head struck the side of the building, sending his vision into a blurry mess of black white blurriness. Nick was the first one to make it to Isaac, cutting the tongue off of the creature, which wailed in pain. It didn’t stop it for long, because before Isaac could get his bearings once again it lunged, sinking its jaw into his arm.

Isaac shrieked as a thousand invisible knives were dragged up and down his arm, blood spurting from it and staining the walls behind him. Nick’s eyes widened and he filled the zombie with bullets. It crumpled to the ground with another word.

Nick was silent for a long time. “Are you alright?” He asked finally, expression not changing.

Isaac gasped and shook his head no.

Nick nodded. “Right. Kid, follow me.”

Not in the mood to argue and certainly not in the mood to wander off again, Isaac obeyed.

The large zombie had been killed, and the other survivors met them in the center of the street. “What happened?” Asked Ellis, seeing Isaac clutching his arm.

“Got bit.” Huffed Nick, frowning dangerously.

“So that means…?” Coach asked, trailing off.

“Yeah. It means that the kid’s Infected.”


	14. Crash the Gates

In all his life, Jordan had never seen a giant robot. Surprising as it may be, the possibility of huge mechanical beasts lumbering around, knocking over trees and such existed only in the extensive realm of his mind.

Up until about now.

The hangar was musty and smelt strongly of oil and melting iron. The floors were rusty and covered in unidentifiable stains, the air thick with heat. People ran around the silver hallways, always busy with some odd job to do. Jordan, who was still having difficulty wrapping his mind around the fact that he was inside a video game, let alone meeting the characters that he had created to pay close enough attention to what those jobs in fact were.

Cywren tugged at Jordan’s arm. “C’mon!” She said. “I don’t know whether this is the best time for you to have shown up or the worst, but either way we’re going to need some extra hands.”

Timebomb rolled his eyes and stooped down to pet the dog that was running up to them. “Heya, Quasar.” He said, smiling. The dog whined and wagged his tail.

“Oh hello!” Said a booming voice from elsewhere.

Jordan gasped as a smiling super mutant rushed up to them, heaving a huge club over his bac, “Now I know why he had run away so fast. He was excited to see you two back alive.” He turned and saw Jordan, who had been standing in shock since he’d shown up. “Who is this?” He asked, face becoming hard and suspicious.

“Cywren found him in a crater near the abandoned houses,” Timebomb replied. “I told her that she couldn’t keep him, but she wouldn’t hear any of it.”

“We already have Quasar,” The super mutant joked, extending a hand. “I am Fawkes, but Cywren calls me Copper. I prefer this name. And yours?”

Jordan shaking his hand. “Jordan,” He replied a bit shakily. “Jordan Frye. I just… Ah… Showed up I suppose. Don’t really know how or why, but I’ll figure it out later.”

Copper shrugged and walked off, Quasar following him. They appeared to be headed for a small circle of people that were discussing something in hushed tones. 

Timebomb nodded for Jordan to follow, and he did so. The circle was made up of three people and a few soldiers standing guard in metal armor. 

“…So we should hit them sooner rather than later,” Said a familiar voice.

“We barely have the manpower to keep the Citadel fortified,” Replied another. “We’ve been over this before, Sarah.”

_Sarah._

Jordan walked up to the circle behind Cywren, grinning to himself.

“Oh, Cywren. You’ve returned.” Said Sarah. “We were just discussing the matter at hand.”

“Uh huh,” Cywren replied. “Noticed. So what’s going on?”

“I was saying that we shouldn’t just wait until they decide that we’re next on the list,” Sarah said, stepping into the light of the room. “If the Pride goes in now, we might still have a chance.”

Sarah wore her usual attire- The usual clunky, metal armor and her blonde hair tied back into a haphazard ponytail. Despite the massive weight of the armor, she wore it like a second skin.

“And if you fail, then what?” Retorted the man that she had been arguing with. He was clearly much older than Sarah and Cywren, clad in a royal blue cloak and sporting white hair. “The risk is not worth the reward.”

“I agree,” Said the man standing across from the first. He was similar in appearance, but somewhat younger with the same white hair. He wore a red cloak, which appeared to be a common theme around here. “Without the G.E.C.K., the purifier is useless to the Enclave anyway. They may give up before long.”

Sarah snorted and crossed her arms. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to _like_ it, Sarah.” Sighed the man in blue. “You just have to follow orders.”

“Yes father,” Mumbled Sarah in defeat.

The man in blue nodded in approval and turned to Cywren, a troubled look on his face. “So you’re back,” He said.

Cywren nodded. “Yes; We just had to go on a short… rescue… mission.

The blue man glaced at Jordan and gave him a curt nod before continuing. “We feared that both you and the G.E.C.K. were lost. Were you successful?”

Cywren glanced around for a few moments before answering. “Well, sort of. I found the G.E.C.K.”

“Excellent.” The man smiled, relieved. “With that, we hold the key to keeping the Enclave from controlling the purifier.”

“Well…” Cywren stammered. “It’s… Not quite that simple.”

“What do you mean?!” Exclaimed the man, enraged. “Explain yourself!”

“The Enclave took the G.E.C.K. They’re installing it now.” Cywren answered, fear woven into her words.

“Then we must go at once,” He decided. “If you have any other information, tell me now before we mobilize. Any help you give now might save lives.”

Cywren thought a moment before coming up with an answer. “Well, Eden wanted me to sabotage the project with a virus…”

The conversation droned on and on, and Jordan quickly grew bored. As impossible as that seems. He glanced around. From what he could tell, the people in here were building something. He furrowed his brow. He knew exactly what it was. 

“…Perhaps we have underestimated the Enclave,” The man’s voice cut into Jordan’s thoughts. “Sarah may be right; an attack may be necessary now. If the Elclave have the G.E.C.K., there’s nothing stopping them from starting the purifier.” He shook his head grimly. “They’ll figure out the code eventually.”

Sarah nodded with an ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk on her face. “I’m afraid you’re right. We need to act now.” She looked at Cywren. “While we can.”

Cywren nodded to Sarah. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Sarah got a determined look on her face. “Send the Pride in. We can do it. We can _win_ this!”

The man frowned and sighed in submission. “All right, Sarah. The Pride goes in. But I want them to have some extra firepower,” He added. “Rothchild, is it ready?”

The man in red glanced up at the mention of his name. “What? No!” He stammered, then coughed. “I mean, Li and I have solved the power problem, but we've only barely finished diagnostic tests.”

The blue man furrowed his brow. “So?”

The red man, Rothchild, sighed irritably. “It’s not ready for field tests, let alone live fire situations.” He then went on to list all of the issues with the so-called ‘Pride.’ “The weapons haven’t been calibrated, the navigation detection system is offline…”

“Rothchild, enough.” The blue man sighed, growing tired of his rambling. “Can you make it work?”

“Honestly?” Rothchild shrugged. “I don’t know. I think we can scrape by, and I suppose it won’t matter in the long run anyway.”

The red man smiled and nodded. “Then it’s decided.” He turned to Sarah, who was trying her best not to look as excited as she was. “Sarah, you take the pride and use the robot as support. Take our friends here and secure that purifier.”

Cywren grinned, glancing towards Jordan. Timebomb muttered something under his breath and scowled, and Copper was too busy playing with Quasar to pay attention to most of what was going on.

“Yes sir!” Sarah said, nodding towards Cywren. 

Cywren climbed up a long metal staircase, getting her foot stuck at the bottom. Timebomb helped her out, and the moment she was free she bolted to the top with a quick “Thanks!” Timebomb sighed, receiving a pat on the back from Copper.

Jordan followed Cywren, avoiding the looks that he was getting from the companions. He caught up with her and Sarah at the landing, staring at what could be best described as-

“Daxius,” Cywren breathed. “That’s what his name should be. Don’t you think?” She turned to Jordan, smiling.

Jordan, unable to find the words to describe the scene in front of him, merely nodded in response. A huge robot stood at the base of an elevator. It was huge, easily two hundred feet tall. It reminded him of the Iron Giant, but quickly disregarded that comparison after remembering its grim fate and not wanting to admit how accurate it may be. He didn’t want to think about it.

Sarah pulled Cywren aside for a minute, saying that she wanted to let her know something. Jordan didn’t protest, and was left alone to think for a minute.

Which wasn’t quite a good thing.

The same solemn thought kept pestering him, returning to his mind every time he cast it away. A number. A verse. And one word.

36\. The final Fallout Tale that Cywren was alive in.

Revelation 2:16. A verse that he had read countless times in his own home, but a code used once in this universe.

The final word. Such a sad word. Such a simple word.

End.

Cywren came back a few second later, sporting a new set of power armor. “Hey!” She said, nodding towards Daxius. “Ready to crash the gates?”

Jordan nodded. “Sure.” He said, trying to be positive. Cywren grinned and rushed off to help with whatever she could. Jordan leaned against the railing, staring up at the robot that had begun to ascend. He frowned, one final sentence ringing in his head. Whether it was from Jimmy or just from the dark recesses of his mind, he couldn’t deny that it was true.

For him to go home, Cywren had to die.


	15. Probably Not a Problem

They were lost.

It wasn’t even a question anymore. It was a solid, indisputable fact that Cierra, the woman, and the little robot were totally, undoubtably, and hopelessly lost. The robot, who had introduced himself as Wheatley, tried endless amounts of times to assure the two humans in his “care” that he knew exactly where they were going, they knew much better.

To be completely honest, Cierra was surprised that they were still alive. Wheatley’s escape plan was far from thought out, and required escaping a room full of turrets, bribery, and as a grand finale, the entire facility crumbling behind them. After they had made it to the lift that he had led them to, she had figured that they were safe in some regard.

She leaned against the side of the lift as it ascended. The woman glanced at her, an exasperated look on her face. She pointed to her and tilted her head, as if asking who she was. 

“I’m Cierra,” She said, smiling. “And don’t be freaked out by this, but I know that your name is Chell.”

Chell’s face was confused a moment, but then she nodded and shrugged as if to say “No big.”

The lift shuddered to a halt and they both stood up, Chell dusting herself off. Beyond it was a small room coated in what appeared to be white paint. A circular door was positioned at the far end of it, a glowing green circle where she supposed the lock would have been. It slid open when they approached it, which led them to a room that appeared to be exactly the same. Chell rolled her eyes and approached the next door, which opened halfway, sparked, and then stopped. With a sigh, Chell aimed the gun at the wall and fired, opening a swirling blue vortex. Cierra stared at it, watching the interior pulsate and flow. Chell fired again through the opening in the broken door, which cause an orange vortex to open on the other side, creating a portal. Chell hopped through and motioned for Cierra to follow. Hesitating for a few seconds, Cierra obeyed. 

The corridor that followed was not another replica, but instead an entryway to another series of walkways, much like the ones that they just escaped through. Wheatley appeared overhead, blue optic shining brightly. 

“Ah! Brilliant!” He exclaimed. “You made it through. Well done.”

Cierra noticed Chell rolling her eyes as they followed him down the catwalk. Wheatley was attached to a management rail above them, which appeared to have direct routes to many areas of the facility.

Quite convenient.

“C’mon,” He continued. “We’ve got some work to do.”

***

Cierra breathed heavily, leaning against the wall for support. For the past hour, they had been running around the facility, trying to sabotage everything they could to prevent GLaDOS from killing them when they confront her. They’d already broken all of her turrets, so next up on the list was to disable the neurotoxin supply. Wheatley had assured them that he knew exactly what he was doing, but both Cierra and Chell had their doubts.

Contrary to their suspicions, a few minutes later they stepped onto a pathway overlooking the central neurotoxin supply room. It was a tangle of tubes and huge metal storage containers, all looping back to connect with the central generator. A mischievous grin spread across Chell’s face as she saw the scene, whereas Cierra’s was more surprised than anything. 

“Ahah!” Exclaimed Wheatley. “I knew we were going the right way!”

Chell rolled her eyes, walking down the extended catwalk. 

Wheatley paused and looked around, regarding the area with a slight bit of panic in his optic. “Bit bigger than I expected,” He noted. “So we’re not gonna be able to y’know, just push it over. Going to have to apply a bit of cleverness.”

Cierra followed Chell, shaking her head with a slight chuckle. They came upon a door embedded into a wall, which Wheatley paused in front of. 

“There’s a control room up ahead,” He said, nodding upwards despite the fact that they couldn’t see anything. “Let’s go investigate.”

“Right,” Said Cierra.

If Wheatley had a mouth, it would be gaping. “You talk?” He said, clearly surprised. 

“Uh huh,” She replied.

“Huh,” Said Wheatley. “I thought everyone left here was either a robot or mute.”

She could have sworn that Chell muttered “Not all” under her breath. She disregarded it.

“Anyway, let’s go.” Wheatley said as the door opened. Cierra nodded in agreement.

They walked through at a rather brisk pace, but they were not met with the expected sight of an office. It was a yet another catwalk, overlooking a churning mass of what would later be called “spinny blades” that were positioned under a conveyer belt that was dispensing the turrets deemed defective at an alarmingly fast rate. Upon closer inspection, the turrets were actually completely functional and not in fact defective.

“Hah. Our handiwork,” Wheatley chuckled from above their heads. “Shouldn’t laugh. They do feel pain. Of a sort. All simulated, y’know. But, uh, real enough for them, I suppose.”

One of the turrets appeared on the conveyer belt, tumbling into the abyss of certain death below. “What did I do wrong?” It cried in its tiny synthesized voice. Cierra felt a pang of sympathy for the machine and quickened her pace to reach the lift at the end of the catwalk.

It began to ascend and Wheatley scouted ahead. “I’m afraid the door’s locked,” He reported as the lift reached the catwalk one level higher. “Just checked it.”

Cierra stopped to listen, but Chell was already walking ahead. “No way to hack it, as far as I can tell.” He continued. “The mechanism must be on the- oh, would you look at that. That’s a big laser.”

Cierra followed his gaze to see a large laser beam, suspended in midair and slicing panels into smaller pieces as they were moved in front of it. A portal surface was positioned behind it, most likely to stop the beam from slicing through anything that it wasn’t supposed to. 

While she was admiring the piece of deadly machinery, Chell had made her way to the large red button on a small outcropping. Without hesitation, she pushed it.

Wheatley went ballistic. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WE DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT BUTTON DO-“

The ‘unhackable’ door slid open.

“Oh.”

Chell fixed him with a smug look and walked through it with Cierra following suit.

“Door’s open,” Wheatley said. “Well done. Let’s see what’s inside.”

The office on the other side of the door was pretty dismal, with decaying walls like most of the facility itself. There was a glass wall off to the side of the area that had a bunch of scattered papers and a computer on the other side. Up the stairs straight ahead was a small area with one wall completely made up of a window that had already been shattered, leaving a completely unobscured view of the massive central generator. There was a small railing, though, so they didn’t have to worry about falling of or anything. Chell paused here, regarding the area with a thoughtful gaze.

“Good news!” Called Wheatley, his voice muffled by distance and the glass. He had found his way to the opposite side of the glass from them, in the room with the trash and the computer. He hovered over it, trying to hack into the neurotoxin supply to little avail. “I can use this equipment to shut down the neurotoxin supply from here! It is, however, password protected.”

There was a blaring noise from elsewhere, causing the humans to cover their ears.

“Ah! Alarm bells. Don’t worry. Not a problem for me.” He said.

Chell frowned and left the area, heading for the laser. Cierra watched her leave and then turned to Wheatley. “How long do you think it’s gonna take to hack?” She asked.

Wheatley’s shell shook slightly, giving the impression of a shrug. “Dunno. A few minutes.”  
She nodded. “Right. Great. Thanks.” A few minutes for Wheatley usually translated to about an hour.

She inspected the generator area carefully. An important detail that she had neglected to notice beforehand was a series of moving portal panels, rotating above the tubes that connected to and supported the generator. She glanced back at the doorway, knowing Chell had seen this before. The portal gun wielding genius entered the room with a slight skip in her step. Aiming the gun at the moving panels, she fired, allowing a blue portal to open. The end of the laser beam extended from the portal, no doubt due to the orange portal on the surface behind it. As the panel moved, all of the tunnels were sliced open like butter, slackening as they fell off of their connective ports.

“Do you smell neurotoxin?” Asked Wheatley form the other room. “Hold on! The neurotoxin levels are going down! So whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”

Chell smiled to herself, cutting off a few more tubes while Cierra watched with a grin.

“Hold on, something’s wrong! Neurotoxin’s up to 50%!”

Cierra panicked a minute before he clarified. “Wait, no. Read that wrong. Sorry. My mistake. I meant to say it’s down 50%.”

Both she and Chell sighed and rolled their eyes at the same time. Following the same pattern as before, Chell severed the last of the tubes, sending the entire area into chaos.

“That did it!” Wheatley crowed victoriously. “Neurotoxin at zero percent! Yes!”

They rejoined him at the glass wall, which was shaking. Glancing back, they saw that the entire generator was collapsing in on itself. It fell down into the abyss, spraying green grass everywhere. It was getting a tad bit hard to breathe.

“Hold on-“

“Warning!” Blared the announcer. “Neurotoxin pressure has reached dangerously unlethal levels.”

“That’s a good thing!” Shouted Cierra over the chaos. Chell nodded in agreement.

The shaking intensified as the glass wall shattered, as well as one of the pipes inside the room. The connection port that the pipe usually resided in was left open, creating a vacuum that sucked all three of them into the tube.

“Gah!” Wheatley said as he was yanked off of his management rail.

The wind screamed in her ears as Cierra did was most people would do in this situation.

She blacked out.


	16. Alliance

The sun breached the upper reaches of the sky, illuminating the forest with little shadows to obscure the dense collective of trees. A few sheep and cows were milling about the landscape, casually prancing from here to there and enjoying the relative absence of threats. One of the sheep bleated a quick greeting to a cow that was walking by, who offered a quick nod in response. The two passed each other without an issue.

Steve and his slightly younger companion Bry were the next pair to cross through the area. Though there journey was not a casual jaunt through the woods that most people had the mind to avoid, but rather what Bry liked to refer to as a ‘scouting mission.’ He always liked to make things appear large and official, no matter the circumstance. For instance, Steve once was woken up by a crash in the kitchen, where Bry had managed to break the the iron door on the refrigerator that they had built by forcing it open when he claimed that the button was broken. He said that he was “forced to preform a manual override of the broken machine.” Steve had just rolled his eyes and went back to sleep, making a mental note to swap it to a lever in the morning when he fixed it.

The wind was blowing calmly through the woods, the currents weaving through the threes and dancing through the flowers littering the forest floor. Steve glanced around with an intent gaze, searching for the landing site of what had been dubbed by Bry as the ‘resonance cascade.’ Again, his flare for theatrics fully showing with the naming. Steve marveled at his extensive imagination, but worried for him constantly. It wasn’t healthy, the endeavors that he attempted. Such as his recent project, a potion that will allow for all the effects simultaneously. He had been working on it for quite some time, and had had some success. Steve feared for the eventual result, as it could have some unintended side effects. 

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. It would be wise to stay on task. If his suspicions proved correct, then they were almost there. He could only wonder what they would find.

None of the possibilities that he came up with were even close to the truth.

***

Silence. Like darkness, it does not love or hate. Live or die. Sleep nor wake. It is simply the absence of a different kind of perception- that of sound. Despite this, it can still be deafening.

Bethany Frye found herself trapped in the middle of this deafening silence.

For about a minute before she worked up the courage to open her eyes, she could do everything but see or hear. There were no sounds to disturb her as she lay in the crater that the impact had created, besides the endless onslaught of her thoughts. They in themselves were deafening, and in some ways exceedingly painful. She worried for her siblings, Isaac in particular. She knew that the others were in Realms like she was, but Isaac’s fate was unknown. Unless they relied on the word of Jimmy Casket, which was not the most trustworthy source in the world, they had no idea where he was.

She shook her head, surprised at the fact that she could. She was immensely dizzy, so she didn’t risk standing up just yet. Seeing would be enough for now.

She felt her eyes open and was immediately met with a blinding light. She blinked, extending a hand in an attempt to block it out. Once her vision cleared, she realized that ‘block’ may actually be in the literal sense. Her hand was replaced with an elongated rectangular prism, clad in a black and purple sleeve. Her eyes widened and she stood up, finally getting a good look at their surroundings. Blocky trees and cubed mountains extended as far as her pixelated eyes could see, the brilliant square of light that was the sun drifting lazily across the clear, blue sky.

She saved herself the cliche freakout and just figured out that she was in Minecraft.

Bethany was not in fact surprised, having already been inside Gmod. Unaware of the figure behind her, she turned around…

…And was immediately met with the face of a sheep.

“Baa,” It bleated as a way of greeting.

Bethany jumped back, but then regained her footing. “Uh, hello…?” She said uncertainly.

The sheep nodded and continued on its merry way.

Well. Odd thing number one. About infinity to go.

With a slight frown, Bethany continued walking nowhere in particular. She noticed that she was wearing her Minecraft skin’s outfit- the black and purple creeper hoodie, boots, and headphones. Jordan had dubbed this the “Emo Bethany Outfit.”

There was suddenly a shout that interrupted the peaceful morning, startling Bethany out of the monotonous walk that she had become fast accustomed to. She paused, glanced around, then shook her head and continued. When another shout was heard, she was not able to believe the explanation of a cow anymore. She slowed her speed to a halt, nervous eyes scanning the treeline.

A few noises began growing louder as footsteps could be heard in the distance. Bethany jumped and leapt behind a fallen branch, that had taken a cube-shaped form. Physics, it appeared, were almost nonexistent in Minecraft. As she waited in suspended anticipation, two figures walked into her field of vision.

The first was tall, with bright blue eyes and, currently, a very annoyed expression on his tanned face. His brown hair was tossed, hanging into his eyes. His companion, who was slightly shorter and appeared younger by a very small margin, trotted along behind him. Every now and again he would slash his sword at nothing, miming attacks and parries. His hair was longer and shaggier, falling into his slightly lighter blue eyes. He was more clean shaven than his older friend, but also was a bit more lanky.

“Sooo,” Said the second one, appearing bored. “At what point do we just decide it was nothing and go home?”

“A huge vortex in the sky is not ‘nothing,’ Bry.” The first muttered. “Maybe in a couple minutes.”

Bry uttered an exaggerated sigh of relief and swung his sword again, this time losing his balance and releasing the blade. It soared the ten feet necessary to reach Bethany’s hiding spot, arcing and then embedding itself inside the bush.

“OW!” Cried Bethany in pain.  
Both Bry and the unnamed other stopped immediately, their eyes traveling to the origin of the exclamation. They glanced at each other, silent words flitting in between them, and then broke into a run.

They arrived at the bush in only moments, parting the clusters of leaves to see none other than Bethany sitting amongst them. She cradled her bleeding left arm in one hand, staring up at them. She moved a few inches backwards, but the taller one extended a hand to help her up. Bethany hesitated, but then cautiously took it with her good hand.

“Hello,” He said with a smile that put Bethany immediately at ease. “I’m Steve. This is my idiot brother, Bry. He’s the one that hurt you.”

Bry also extended a hand. “Yeah… Sorry ‘bout that. My mistake. Honest.”

Bethany opened her mouth as if to reply, but he continued.

“I didn’t mean to throw the sword,” He clarified. “I lost grip of it. Just so we’re clear here.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. I do.”

Bry glared in silent protest.

Bethany suppressed a laugh. “I’m Bethany. Nice to meet you both.”

Steve nodded. “Did you see a large vortex in the sky earlier?” He asked.

“Just out of curiosity,” Bry added. “We’re not insane or anything.”

Bethany paused a moment, contemplating how to respond. “Sort of…” She began. “W-Yeah. I did see it.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Really? Where?”

She coughed. “Well…”

Four eyes stared at her expectantly.

“I was the reason it was here.”

There was approximately three seconds of bewildered silence before chaos ensued once more.


	17. Ashes to Ashes

****Isaac wasn’t quite sure when the ringing in his ears began. Nor was he sure exactly when the ringing morphed into a stabbing pain in his temple. He didn’t recall exactly when the world faded to an inky black. He didn’t recall ever waking up.

Most likely because he hadn’t yet.

As Isaac slept undisturbed amongst the raging warfare outside of his own little world, an idea began to take shape in the dark recesses of his mind. It was dim and faded for awhile, slowly becoming less fuzzy as time ticked by. It was then that this idea came into a light and became a dream. In this dream, Isaac recalled his birthday. He stood adjacent from the table adorned with various decorations, a large cake positioned right in front of him. Eleven sparkling candles shone in the dimly lit room, bouncing off of his glasses and casting reflections onto the walls. Cierra stood to his left, as well as Bethany and Jordan to his right. They all wore joyous expressions on their faces, chanting to the tune of ‘happy birthday.’ When the song came to a close, Isaac closed his eyes, made a wish, and blew out the candles.

The fire went out, sending frenzied trails of smoke drifting towards the ceiling. Clapping erupted form the room as relatives and friends alike celebrated the occasion, his siblings encasing him in a tight hug. He grinned and laughed along with the crowd, anxiously awaiting the first slice of cake to be served.

The image began to fade, leaving the semiconscious Isaac to contemplate it. Just before he woke, he came to the conclusion that the dream was not about birthdays, nor cake, nor simple celebration. It was about the thing that he treasured and missed so dearly, the very thing he fought to return to.

Isaac dreamt of family.

***

“Kid…” Said a voice softly. “Hey kid, wake up.”

Isaac groggily lifted his head, the world blurred and doubled. He could make out Nick’s face among the mess, and he offered a weak smile to reassure him that he was alive.

“Rochelle!” Nick called. “He’s up.”

Rochelle exhaled shakily. “Good. Thought he was done for.”

“Zombie bites don’t always kill ya,” Ellis pointed out. “They just infect ya. Hurts like heck for a couple’a hours an’ then you-“

Nick shushed him. “Ellis,” He said, looking at him dangerously. “Not now.”

Ellis shrugged, sitting down against the walls of the latest safehouse.

It was then that Isaac noticed that he was not in the middle of the street as he was when he had first drifted into the realm of the unconscious, but inside a much more decayed safehouse. The building appeared to be made of crumbling concrete, threatening to shatter into dust at a single disturbance. But by the confidence in which the rest of the team leaned on the structure, he assumed it to be safe.

Well, as safe as you could get in an apocalypse.

Isaac tried to sit up, but was met with Rochelle’s disapproving hand pushing him back down and a sharp pain rocketing through him. He almost cried out, but bit his tongue. Rochelle nodded grimly.

“Like Ellis said,” She told him. “It’s going to hurt.”

Iaaac grimaced. “Will it… Go away?”

Rochelle glanced at Nick for support. Nick hesitated, thinking over his words carefully. “Yes…” Isaac became hopeful for a moment. “…And no.” His heart sank.

“What do you mean?”

Nick frowned, shaking his head. “The Infection- The Green Flu- takes over its host. You’ll…” He sighed. “You’re be like them.”

The world seemed to freeze around Isaac. For him, this meant two things. 1- He was going to die. And 2- He would never see his family again.

The dream seemed father away than ever.

Coach noticed his solemn demeanor. “I’m sorry,” He offered as a comfort. It didn’t do much to calm Isaac, but he nodded regardless.

He glanced down at where the Smoker had bit him, where his usually light skin was slowly turning to a clammy, decaying grey. The bite mark itself was outlined in red, whether from blood or irritation he didn’t know nor care to find out. A small, tentacle-like thing extended from the wound, looping around his hand and forming almost rounded indentations in his skin. It only travelled up to just below his elbow, but it was enough to frighten him extensively.

He reached a hand to his face, where he discovered that the skin around his left eye was rough and thickened in places. Small welts were scattered around, obscuring his vision to some degree.

Isaac was in too much shock and panic and fear to fully contemplate his situation. He leaned back down, his head striking the floor. It hurt, to some lesser degree, but at this point it was as if you were poking someone who has been doused in acid with a needle. It could not even compare to the pain he was already experiencing.

“Try to get some more rest,” Rochelle urged. “It seems to slow the infection. In the meantime, we’ll…” Her voice faltered and she sighed. “W-we’ll see what we can do.”

Isaac didn’t respond. Darkness threatened to overtake him again, and he was not really in the mood to argue. The last emotion to cross his mind before he faded was determination.

He was going to get through this.

He was going to survive.

And in the end, he was going to see his family again.


	18. A Counterfeit Conscience

“Not my name…” Said a voice. “Not my name… NOT MY NAME!”

Jimmy casket bolted awake, sweat slicking his dark brown hair to his forehead. His hands trembled as they fumbled for his knife, his mind racing faster than a swing of his weapon of choice. His bloodred eyes were wide with an emotion hardly shown in them- a sick sense of twisted fear.

_Woken up, have you?_ Said the voice of Johnny Ghost. _Thought maybe you were dead. But then again, dead guys don’t scream. He paused. Well, technically…_

Jimmy growled with a shaky breath. “I w-wasn’t screaming,” He hissed. “It was just a nightmare.”

_What do psychopaths dream about?_ Johnny wondered. _Kinda mean, though. Leaving me just in a dark void while you’re asleep. Gosh, is that what I made you go through while I sleep? Sorry about that._

Jimmy wasn’t in the mood to find a comeback. He drew his knees up to his chest, the tattered jeans pressed up against the bloodstained sweater. “Like you don’t have nightmares,” He said, avoiding staring directly at the portals. “I know you do.”

_‘Course,_ Ghost replied. _Everyone does. Except for you, I once thought. So what torments your twisted mind? Regret?_

Jimmy shook his head with an attempt at a sneer. “My thoughts are nightmares compared to yours.”

_I doubt that._ Ghost said grimly.

There was silence for quite a bit, all the while Jimmy’s eyes drifted slowly back to the portals until he was facing them completely. His face morphed into an unreadable expression once more as a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Johnny Ghost’s voice appeared again, surprised. _You’re… Guilty._

Casket laughed out loud. “So you’re resorting to wishful thinking?” He scoffed. “Life isn’t a fairy tale. The bad guy doesn’t turn good. The heroes don’t always win.”

_It depends on who’s who,_ Replied Ghost. _Because as far as I can see, the lines are beginning to blur._

Casket glanced to Isaac, who shook in a fitful sleep. His face hardened as he nodded. “Yeah. Guess so.”

_You and I both know that’s not what I meant._

His eyes narrowed and flared. “Hah.” He turned to look away from the portal.

_We’re not so different, you and me._ Said Ghost. _We’ve just swapped positions._

“You are nothing like me,” Jimmy hissed. He reached for his knife and held it up to catch the dim lights of the far off streets, as if to make a point.

_You’d be surprised,_ Ghost said. _I can hear some of your thoughts, and I think both of us have things we don’t know._

“I think I’d know more about my own head than you,” Jimmy said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t read ‘em all. I know that.”

_Your mind’s about as messed up as mine,_ Ghost chuckled.

“How so?”

_I have my theories._

Casket grinned darkly. “So you don’t know.”

_Hm._

He turned back to the portals, watching the sun rise. “I’ve got control soon,” He warned. “I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you.”

_Of course,_ Said Ghost dryly. _What do I know?_

Casket said nothing.

There was a sound from not too far off- a door opening. At first he shook it off, credited it to the wind or some other sound. Anything but what, or who, he knew it really was.

The noise did not go unnoticed by Ghost. _Did you hear that?_

“No,” Lied Jimmy. Then the footsteps began and he couldn’t ignore it again.

_Turn around!_

Jimmy did, and met with the face of a weakened Jonathan Toast.

_Toast!_ Cried Ghost joyously.

“Toast,” Hissed Casket menacingly. He checked to make sure that his knife was still in his hand. “You’re up now?”

Johnny Toast narrowed his eyes at Jimmy to try and look intimidating. “G-get out of him,” He said with a slight struggle.

Casket laughed, insanity laced through his tone and cloaking his face. The knife glinted, the only thing obscuring the pure silver being the dried splotches of scarlet red. “How ‘bout no?”

“G-get out,” Toast repeated, stepping back.

Casket rolled his eyes, circling Toast as if deciding how to end him. “Are you bloody thick?” He mimed Toast’s accent. “Ghost is mine. I’ve almost taken him over.”

“In all the cases,” Muttered Toast, looking up at him pleadingly. “You never killed him. You always cringed when he got hurt, even though it never caused you any pain. You have a _conscience_.”

For a moment, hesitation flashed through his eyes. But in an instant that flash was gone and replaced by sick menace. “Funny thing,” He said, raising the knife. “You can always ignore your conscience.”

The knife suddenly found itself slicing through Toast’s chest.

_NO!_

Ghost’s voice pierced through the night as Toast’s body sank to the ground, blood painting the concrete below. He gasped, shaking and writhing about in shock, and then finally stilled.

Johnny Toast, Johnny Ghost’s assistant, partner, and best friend, was dead.

Jimmy grinned maniacally, staring down at his work. Had this occurred not three days ago, he found have felt no remorse, But now, the pain of what he’d done tugged at his heart and his mind, crying out to be heard. He shook it away, lowering the knife.

_NO!!_ Ghost was sobbing inside Casket’s thoughts, his tears of mourning soaking his consciousness. _HE CAN’T BE DEAD!! Y-YOU CAN’T HAVE KILLED HIM!_

_“Think again,” Snickered Jimmy, sitting down again to watch his plan unfold._

_Of course. I know nothing!_ Muttered Ghost through tears. _I’m just the voice in your head._


	19. The Final Countdown

Fire raged on the distant horizon as Jordan marched towards the battleground. He toted a gun in his hands and wore light armor, feeling out of place amongst the soldiers and warriors that charged alongside him. Cywren was to his left, Timebomb and Copper straying to the right. Quasar trotted at Cywren’s heels. Every now and again Timebomb would shoot Jordan a look, so he made sure to keep a reasonable distance between him and Cywren.

The air was thick with smoke as they approached, the ground shaking with every step the robot took. Sarah grinned every moment of the charge, appearing pleased with herself as well as the situation. No one appeared to be on edge about the oncoming battle, confidence radiating from their determined expressions. Jordan tried to replicate the lack of fear that they carried about them, but couldn’t bring himself to shake the frightened thoughts from his head.

He became dimly aware that someone was speaking to him. He swiveled his head to face a rather distressed Cywren, who was gesturing frantically to the sky. “Look out!” She shouted.

He glanced up, seeing two huge helicopters circling above them. They seemed like shadows against the dimming sky, absurdly close to the ground. He took a few nervous steps back as the surrounding troops halted.

All of a sudden, a hulking figure suspended by a crane appeared over the top of the line of buildings. It blocked out the sun- a lingering silhouette of hope. The Liberty Prime. It was lowered to the ground with a thunderous crash, standing on its two colossal feet. It was still for a moment before it begun to move, stomping along the path and creating clouds of dust in its wake.

The soldiers were frozen in awe. Sarah smirked.

“On the scale of epicness,” Said Jordan admiringly. “That is a ten.”

Cywren nodded in agreement.

The helicopters circled the Liberty Prime (aka Daxius), red beams of light appearing to scan the beast. Darius leaned forward, not unnerved in the slightest, and blue lasers fired from its eyes, knocking the choppers out of the sky in a fiery explosion. Jordan gasped, jumping up and down. The remaining pieces of scrap metal plummeted to the ground, smoking.

“THAT IS LASER BEAM VISION!” He crowed.

Daxius began moving again, steady stomping his way towards the Enclave. Everyone tailed behind, whooping and cheering with glee.

“Oh wow,” Jordan said. “That is epic.”

“HECK YEAH IT IS!” Agreed Timebomb from behind him. “D’you reckon the Enclave are running scared?”

“It would be smart of them!” Chuckled Copper.

“Woof!” Quasar chimed in.

One of the power armor clad soldiers marched by Cywren. She stopped him. “Do you see how big this is?!” She asked him, eyes gleaming from behind her glasses.

“Yes, ma’am!” He replied, only half turning her way.

“Oh yeah,” Said Jordan, watching Daxius step onto the bridge extending across the irradiated waters. “This right here.”

“This is what I signed up for.” Cywren grinned. “Totally what I signed up for.”

They charged forward, the Enclave drawing nearer every moment. A few projectiles launched themselves at the band of warriors, all missing their mark.

Nevertheless, Jordan jumped back, still smiling. “I just hope one of those random rockets doesn’t hit us,” He said. “That would be really bad.”

“Kind of goes without saying,” Timebomb retorted.

Gunfire rang through the air as small attempts at stopping them were attempted, but obliterated by Daxius’s wrath. “TARGET AQUIRED,” A modulated voice said from above them as Daxius’s blue lasers rained down on the Enclave’s dwindling defenses.

“And he has an awesome voice too!” Cywren chirped.

Explosions sounded from all sides, combining with the ambient noises that created what almost sounded like an orchestrated melody. They reached another bridge- but this one would take them exactly where they needed to go. A huge field of electrical energy prevented them from passing through, and a knot tied itself in Jordan’s stomach.

Daxius didn’t seemed concerned. Babbling things to himself in his ‘awesome voice,’ he positioned himself in front of the force field and fired the largest laser yet directly at it. In a blinding flash, Jordan staggered backwards, blinking a few times. By the time he could see again, the force field was gone and they were charging forward again.

“This is the most awesome thing ever,” He said decisively. “I want an army of these things. Like the whole place just covered in these things.” He held up his hands as if to help paint the picture.

Sarah didn’t seem to share in his moment. “Brothers!” She called to the soldiers. “Stand as one!” They all complied.

Daxius began throwing projectiles at the oncoming Enclave, causing explosions to erupt where they struck. “He has GRENADES?!” Jordan said in awe.

“I’m concerned about this area,” Mumbled Timebomb from behind them.

His comment went unheard. “He has giant grenades!” Cywren cheered. “We almost don’t have to do anything! Just sit back and watch him do his thing!”

“They don’t stand a chance.”

The explosions seemed to melt together into one fiery symphony, no one quite knowing from which side they came. The approach began again as they slowly crossed the bridge and pushed the Enclave’s defenses back. So far, not a single ground troop. They were at least that intelligent.

There were a few close calls (which were quickly fixed with Cywren’s stash of Stimpacks), but they managed to make it to the borders of the Enclave’s headquarters with no casualties on their part. The ruined city seemed to have created a towering fortress, a spiraling labyrinth protecting the Enclave’s center of operations. It was a brilliant setup, to be completely honest, but there wan’t enough time for our young heroes to admire it.

The last bridge seemed to have been created with the most defenses, as a huge force field fence wrapped around it. There was no way above or below it, and no way to destroy it as far as Cywren and Jordan could tell. While they were pondering their next move, Daxius had already positioned his attack. Placing both robotic hands on the force field fence, he leaned on the structure, sending electricity bouncing and sparking off of his entire metal shell. The current made him shudder, his circuits whirring and skipping in an attempt to keep up with the onslaught.

Eventually the force field flickered and died, causing Daxius to slump to his knees. Before there was a chance to be concerned, he was up and firing again.

Taking the chance, Cywren and company dashed forwards, heading for the huge building at the center of the sprawling fortress. They paused right outside the door. Cywren placed a tentative hand on the metal bars, hesitating.

“We’re going in for the final battle,” She said, taking a few say breaths. “We;ll need the help of all of our friends.”

Jordan, Timebomb, Copper, and Cywren exchanged looks and Sarah tagged along behind them. Quasar woofed encouragingly and Copper nodded, grinning at Cywren. Time bomb offered a determined grin, adjusting his goggles. Sarah crossed her arms and nodded.

Jordan shrugged. “You got this, Cywren.”

She smiled, pushing on the bar. “Let’s do it.”

The door swung open, leading them deeper into danger.

And, for some, that much closer to home.


	20. GLaD to See You

Cierra blinked her eyes open and was immediately met with rushing winds. She uttered a short yelp before recalling everything that had happened. After taking a few deep breaths, she glanced around. She was inside one of the many thousands of tubes that connected the myriad of sprawling laboratories under Aperture, miscellaneous items being carried through them. Most of them happened to be the ever-loved Companion Cubes.

Chell was right behind her, grinning as they rocketed through the glass pipes. Wheatley was just ahead, whooping with joy as his blue optic rolled around in his metallic shell.

“This should take us right to Her!” He crowed, blinking rapidly. “I can’t believe I’m finally doing this!”

“Me either!” Cierra replied. Chell was silent, as expected.

The tunnel that they were currently traveling inside of entered a vast expanse of facility, the chasm below them yawning as fog coated the bottom of their vision. Cierra marveled at the sheer size of this place, as pipes writhed around every nook and cranny like coiling snakes.

“Woo!” Wheatley cried, laughing. “I knew this would be fun! They told me that it wasn’t fun at all! ‘Not fun at all’ the said- And I BELIEVED ‘em! Ah! I’m loving this! Whale of a time!”

Cierra rolled her eyes, but could not deny that riding in the pipes was indeed fun. It was as if she was on a waterslide that used wait instead of water- sort of like a vacuum but where she could still breathe. Somehow there was enough of it that they managed to stay afloat towards the center of the tunnels.

The tunnel weaved its way through a column of panels, coming around the other end. “This place is huge!” Wheatley remarked.

“Noticed!” Cierra replied, grinning. She extended her arms ever so slightly, furthering the illusion that she was flying.

“Yeah, but we’re only seeing the top layer!” He told her. “It goes down for miles! All sealed off years ago, of course.”

She glanced down. Sure seemed like it.

“We’re getting close,” Wheatley said to Chell and Cierra, looking ahead. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face. No neurotoxin, no turrets! She’ll never know what hit her!”

“Well, not face exactly.” Cierra chuckled, to which Chell smiled.

The tunnel began running alongside another one, the pipe carrying a massive amount of companion cubes to an unknown location. The adjacent pipe began getting closer, until it because evident that the pipe that the trio was in connected to the companion cube one.

“Hold on now,” Wheatley said worriedly. “I might… Not have thought this next part… Completely through.”

Before anyone could offer any assistance, one of the companion cubes ran into him as they crossed through the intersection, slamming him off course and sending him tumbling into the next pipe. “Aagh!”

“Wheatley!” Cierra yelped.

“I’m going the wrong way!” He shouted, spinning in lopsided circles.

“I can see that!” She retorted.

“Get to her!” He said, then paused. “I’ll find you!”

With that, the tunnel entered another area and both Chell and Cierra were plunged once again into darkness.

As their eyes adjusted to the limited light in the area, they found themselves launched onto another platform. Apparently the tunnel had ended.

Cierra rubbed her head. “Ooow…”

Chell muttered something inaudible and stood up. Cierra checked to make sure that her long fall boots were still functional and did the same, looking around. They appeared to be on another catwalk, leading to a dead end overlooking the chasm. They approached the ledge of the catwalk, which was ripped away to leave only mangled metal behind. Chell surveyed the chasm, noticing an illuminated portal surface in the far distance.

“Seems like a trap,” Cierra said with a furrowed brow.

Chell stiffly nodded, then sighed with a shrug. Through her own unique communication, she made their position clear: There was no other choice but deliver themselves to GLaDOS. 

“There’s always the chance that she’ll flood the entire camber with neurotoxin,” Cierra pointed out.

Chell shook her head. GLaDOS would want to witness their deaths. She’d worked too hard for their deaths to watch it on a mere video screen, if at all.

Shakily, Cierra nodded. “O-okay. Let’s go.”

Chell raised her portal gun and quickly connected two portals- one on the illuminated surface of flickering lights and one on the wall next to them. With little hesitation, Chell hopped through he portal with Cierra following suit.

Since the illuminated surface was on the ceiling of whatever area it led to, the duo had to brace themselves and make full use of their long fall boots to get there. Chell was accustomed to such situations, but Cierra almost fell over.

The area was small- just about a 20 foot by 20 foot area composed of panels with a portal conductive roof suspended a few feet above the top of the box. Apart from a small doorway set into the side of the wall, the area was quite plain. Cierra approached the door, as it appeared to be the only thing in here. ‘GLaDOS EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN’ read the sign on the front. ‘And cake dispensary.’ added a small note below it.

Chell rolled her eyes and turned the handle, only to have the door fall over on its face, revealing its true form as a wooden cutout.

“I honestly, truly didn’t think you’d fall for that.”

At those chilling words from GLaDOS, the panels jumped to life, inching closer as the floor split open. Cierra yelped, but Chell was surprisingly calm.

“If I had known that you’d let yourself get captured this easily, I would have just dangled a turkey leg on a rope from the ceiling.”

The panels closed in, leaving only a sliver of ground left to stand on. A few moments later, even that was gone, sending them tumbling into a small relaxation chamber. It was basically four glass walls and a platform, which was inching closer to a giant chamber that was closed off by a grouping of panels.

Cierra pressed herself against the glass as the panels slipped back.

“I hope you brought something stronger than a portal gun this time.”


	21. Off to Kill the Dragon

Bethany staggered back at the barrage of questions, trying in vain to answer them all but finding that most of them she didn’t know the answer to.

“How did you get here?” Demanded Steve.

“Where did you come from?” Inquired Bry.

“What was the vortex?”

“Did you create it?”

“Who are you?”

Bethany held up her hands to silence them. “I don’t know, okay?” She shouted.

Steve coughed and nodded, backing up. Bry opened his mouth, but his brother’s hand clapped over it to prevent any noises from being produced. He received a glare.

“I’m really sorry,” Bethany said honestly. “I can’t explain most of it, but I can tell you what I know.”

A nod came from Steve. “I’m listening.”

She took a breath. “My siblings and I are… Lost. We’re not from around here and I have to get back to them. My brother Isaac is probably in trouble and I don’t know about everyone else. They need my help and we need to get back to our own Realm to help a friend with…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Something.” Better they know less.

Steve’s eyes softened, and he appeared to understand to some limited degree. “O-okay. I’m having trouble wrapping my head around this.”

“It’s best not to think too hard about it,” Bethany sighed. “Even I’m not sure of it all.”

He nodded in response. “From what I’ve picked up, this doesn’t seem to be your home.”

She shook her head.

“It also doesn’t seem to be your realm.”

She shook her head once more.

Bry looked from Bethany to Steve and then back to Bethany. “Wait wait wait wait… You’re an Outworlder?”

Steve facepalmed. “Don’t call them that.”

Bry stuck his hands on his hips indignantly. “It’s a good name!”

“Don’t mind him,” Steve told Bethany. “He likes to make things complicated.”

“I know the feeling,” Bethany replied, thinking back to her siblings when they were younger.

Bry huffed, folding his arms.

Steve’s expression twisted into determination. “Well… If what you’re saying is true, then there’s only one way to get you home.”

Bethany’s mood improved instantly. “Really?! How?”

His expression was grim. “Have you… Ever heard of the End Dimension?”

The world seemed to stand still for a moment as the painfully obvious yet insanely dangerous solution was left hanging in the air. She’d played the game before. She’d fought the dragon before.

She knew how it had to end.

Bethany looked down, shaking slightly. “Y-yeah. I know what it is.”

“You can get home if you kill the dragon,” Said Bry. “But so far no one’s done it. A couple people tried to go once, but they d-“

“Didn’t come back,” Steve cut in, sending a look Bry’s way. “We’ve recently uncovered the journals of an unknown adventurer who was known as simply the Storyteller of Myth, but whose journals refer to the author as The Scythian. We may find some information in the documents.”

“I scanned it once,” Bry said. “The End was mentioned.”

“Well, then we should head back to the library,” Steve told them decisively. “Let’s take a look.”

Bethany nodded, a little more hope in her eyes. “Okay! Let’s go.”

***

The town was abuzz with the news of Bethany’s arrival by the time the trio made it back. A huge crowd had formed to welcome them, which made it hard to move around properly. Steve managed to calm everyone down with some ‘public announcement’ regarding what had happened while Bry “led an escort mission” to the library. It took awhile to actually reach the building due to his insistence on “scoping the perimeter before moving out,” but once they were there Steve had already arrived.

“Okay,” He said, standing by the door. “It’s in here. I think I put it in the back somewhere.”

Bethany nodded, glancing up at the library. It was a tall structure, made of wood and cobblestone to mimic the style of the basic village homes. Windows adorned most of the walls, used as a replacement for torches so as not to light the books on fire.

Bry pushed open the door and mimed a salute. Steve rolled his eyes, Bethany thanked him, and all three walked inside. The red carpets on the floor showered dust whenever they stepped on them, making it slightly troublesome to breathe.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here in awhile,” Bethany said.

“Or ever.” Added Bry.

Steve nodded. “Yeah… It’s more of an archive, really. Minecraftia’s a kill-or-be-killed world. It doesn’t leave much time to read.”

“Suppose so,” Bethany reasoned. “So anyway, where was the journal?”

Steve made a motion with his hand. “This way. It’s back here since some segments need decoding.”

Bethany followed his gaze to see a dark oak wood door set into the back of the wall. The bookshelves obscured the light from the windows, cloaking it in shadow. Calling it eerie would be the understatement of the century.

Both Bethany and Bry seemed hesitant to approach, but Steve was at ease. “It’s fine,” He assured them, sensing their unease. “There’s light once we get inside.” He pushed open the door to reveal a stone room well lit with torches and redstone lamps over some of the desks. It was a very basic stone space with a few desks lining the walls and a miscellaneous painting on one of the walls. A book as well as a few pages was strewn on the farthest desk, along with a quill, some ink, and stone tools.

Steve approached the journal, picking it up. It, unlike most of the objects inside the room, had little to no dust on it. “Here we are,” He said, walking over to them. “Let’s take a look.”

They all sat down on the floor, creating a half circle around Steve, who opened the book. He flipped through a few pages until he abruptly stopped. “There!” He said, pointing. “I remember seeing it there.”

Bethany peered at the page, following the direction of his finger. “Here. _‘In all of my travels, I have never been able to survive a trip to the End.’_ ” She read aloud. “ _‘It has taken Code Warping to even return to the Overworld alive. Many frown upon my use of Warping, but I pay them no mind. It is for the sake of study, and for the sake of the people who may seek my knowledge to survive. I only hope that one day it comes of use. I know all too well that I will not be around for much longer to speakk of it myself, as the… side effects of the warping has taken their tole on me._

_ ‘I entered the place on accident near a year ago- adventuring through caves and taking notes of mob spawners. Before me was a rectangular frame with several Eyes of Ender placed inside specialized holding areas. One of which was missing. I found it lying on the floor near the corner of the chamber. I replaced it, and a swirling black and silver membrane connected them. The silver portion began to form star like formations, mimicking the night sky. I was hesitant to touch it, but eventually curiosity got the better of me and I placed my hand in it. Miraculously, it went though. As I stood, some of the stone around me began squealing, alerting me to the presence of silverfish. I felt a bite in the back of my leg, and it my haste fall through. _

_ ‘There was an odd sensation when I entered the portal, as if I was standing still and yet moving fast at the same time.I cannot explain it using the limited vocabulary of my speech. In any case- it is not what is important. Once my sense of vision returned to me, I was astonished at what I saw. A series of islands made of a material that I had never seen before hovered in what appeared to be an endless void of darkness. Obsidian pillars towered into the sky, if you could even call it that. There appeared to be an overabundance of Enderman, which is where I coined the name from. But these marvels were nothing compared to the true spectacle of this realm. _

_ ‘A dragon soared above the pillars as a beam connected them, healing the beast as it flew. It uttered a roar once it became aware of my presence, narrowing its purple eyes. I was frozen where I stood- unable to move or even think clearly. It did not appear to have the capability of fire like the dragons of myth, but instead began flying towards me at an immense speed. I did not have a weapon with me, unfortunately, and thus the thing killed my with one swipe of its claw. _

_ ‘I was not truly dead, as my altered code allowed for a respawn. It was my way of cheating death. Unfortunately, side effects would present themselves and I would slowly decline into insanity, but that was not until later. I am writing this now while I still can. I returned every now and again, and found through many trials that there is no way to safely leave. The dragon must grant you your freedom by death- as is the way of the creatures. I leave this now in hope that it comes in use. My ability to study the realm was limited, as I am not particularly skilled in combat. So the only way to return was to die. Refuge was on option that I tried, but the beast appears to be able to break through most materials besides the obsidian towers. The gems on top of them are used for health regeneration. I have no advice regarding battling the creature apart from enchanted weapons. _

_ Be careful. Be smart. Be ready. _

_ The Scythian.’” _

 

Bethany concluded with a breath, turning to Bry and Steve who sat in stunned silence. There was a collective moment of glances exchanged, but Bry was never one for keeping quiet.

“So… We got to kill the dragon,” He said. “Or we die.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Appears that way.”

“Well…” Bethany said. “We’re not doing anything worthwhile by just sitting here. What are we waiting for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Bry responded.

Steve grinned determinedly. “Let’s go kill us a dragon.”


	22. Change

 

_Isaac’s head was screaming._

_Isaac’s heart was pounding._

_Isaac’s vision was fading._

_Isaac’s cries were sounding._

 

_Flurried screams and muffled pleas and_

_Bleed_

_Bleed_

_Bleeding_

_Red stained walls and desperate calls and_

_Lose_

_Lose_

_Losing_

 

_Control was ending_

_Control was fading._

_Control was falling._

_Control was almost gone._

 

“KID!”

Isaac’s face lurched upwards, eyes a bright green. The pupil was thin, nearly a slit at this point. He was cowering in a corner, shuddering in a pool of blood. Whether it was his own, he didn’t know nor cared.

Nick’s eyes were stern. “You need to calm down.”

He took a shaky breath and nodded slowly. “T-trying…” He muttered, pausing in astonishment at his own voice. It was laced with the same groveling, snakelike tone that was in the infecteds, particularly the one that bit him. This revelation only made him more frightened, and he wrapped his arms around his legs and drew them up to his chest.

Rochelle stood adjacent to a sloppy painting on the wall, made to look like a window. In the absence of one, Isaac supposed it was calming. Ellis was tossing a ball-snaped rock into the air and catching it, every now and again letting it fall. He let out a snide comment to Coach once in awhile, who was cleaning and organizing the weapons. Coach sent him a glare and continued his ordering. Nick was the closest to him, kneeling down.

“W-w-what’s going on?” He asked, voice low.

Nick opened his mouth as if to respond, but Rochelle answered for him.

“You’re changing.” She said grimly. “You’re a time bomb waiting to go off, and now the countdown’s started.”

Nick turned, giving her a look. “We can help.”

Rochelle scoffed, whirling around with her arms folded. “When the bomb goes off, he’ll kill us all. Which is why-“

“We will help him until it does,” Nick insisted sternly. “We would want someone to do the same for u-“

“It wouldn’t happen to one of us,” She growled, venom in her voice. “We’re immune to the Green Flu. That means that it’s our job to fix this mess.”

“This world is doomed,” Ellis cut in, catching the ball again. “We ain’t gonna save it. We’ll put off its imminent death, but this outbreak’s gonna finish it off ‘fore we can even figure out how to start.”

Rochelle narrowed her eyes, turning away again. “Fine,” She said quietly. “Get yourselves killed by harboring an infected. Maybe we can’t save this planet, but we’re going to save ourselves. The moment he turns, I’m putting a bullet in his brain.”

Nick nodded slowly. “Fine. Coach?”

He nodded. “I’m with Rochelle. This is dangerous, and we can’t risk every life here for one infected who probably wasn’t going to last long anyway.”

Nick sighed. “Suppose Ellis and I are alone on this one.”

Ellis began to protest. “I never said th-“

“As I was saying…” Nick eyed him. “We’ll take care of the kid until he turns. You won’t have to worry. All we have to do it take an extra day in the safehouse-“

Rochelle scoffed. “An extra day? This is a huge risk that I’m unwilling to take-“

“Rochelle, calm down,” Coach urged. “We;ll be fine as long as we’re still quiet.”

Nick nodded his approval. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Rochelle glared but said nothing.

“Don’t stress, kid.” Nick told Isaac with a slightly smile. “You’re going to be alright.”

Isaac hung his head, slipping back into the unconsciousness that he had become so accustomed to. 

“Okay…”


	23. The Alpha and the Omega

One might expect Cywren to be a mighty hero, fearing little. Deft in battle and kind in demeanor, defending the Wasteland with bravery and might. In many ways, she was. But in others, not so. Such as currently.

Her first moments of the final journey that she knew she would take began dully. 

She took two steps, 

tripped, 

and fell on her face.

Thankfully, no lasting injuries were inflicted on her, but her glasses cracked down the right side. Timebomb helped her up and made sure she was alright, all the while giving Jordan a half-glare. Jordan shrugged it off, not quite shipping the “Cybomb” pairing yet.

“I’m fine, really.” Cywren assured her worried companion. “Let’s go.”

They nodded and pressed on.

After a few minutes of trekking through the expanse of decaying tunnels, they arrived in a room housing only a single door.

Jordan recalled it all too well. “Bad things would happen,” The comments had warned. “Very bad things would happen beyond the door.” Maybe it was the stress or just the balance of the game, but he couldn’t quite recall how Cywren would die. He cursed Jimmy in his mind, crediting it (incorrectly) to him. Copper’s face hardened as Cywren began to explain the plan.

“Okay everyone, gear up.” She instructed. “Reload if you need to. Let me know if you need any Stimpacks. We have no idea what’s past here, but we have to be ready.”

Timebomb glanced behind him, then turned forward again and nodded. “We’re ready.”

Jordan took a shaky breath, agreeing. “Let’s go.”

Cywren placed a hand on the handle and turned, allowing them entry. They all tensed, preparing for a barrage of gunfire but finding none. Instead, Colonel Autumn stood in the corner of the room, fiddling with a pistol. At the sound of the door opening, he turned to face them.

His face was surprised a moment, but then it faded into disgust. “You again,” He growled. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You and your ilk seemed hell-bent on destroying everything our government has achieved.”

“I’m not destroying anything,” Said Cywren, keeping her gun low.

Colonel Autumn continued. “There’s nothing stopping me from killing you now. Let’s end this.” Despite his words, he didn’t display any intent of even pointing the weapon at her.

“Look,” Jordan said. “I don’t want to fight you.”

She ignored him. “Give it up, Autumn. You’ve lost.”

Autumn scoffed. “I beg to differ. The Enclave is at the height of its power. Once the facility is operational, the masses will flock to the Enclave for fresh water, protection, and a plan for tomorrow.”

“You’re not going be at ‘the height of power’ with this bullet in between your eyes,” Jordan threatened, but Cywren waved him off.

“Raven Rock is gone,” Cywren said. “Eden checked out. You’ve got nothing left.”

Autumn seemed to consider this for a short moment. “The American People are worth fighting for,” He finally replied. “The future must be secured. I won’t let you stand in the way of that.”

“This isn’t the way to do it,” Cywren urged. “More fighting will just make things worse.”

“And what would you have me do?” He asked, voice wavering slightly as he began to think about what she was saying. “Let you have everything I’ve worked to build? Let you destroy it all?”

“Just walk away.” Cywren said, fixing him with an intense look. “It’s not too late.”

He appeared taken aback. “And you… You would just let me leave? How do I know that you’re not going to shoot me once I turn my back on you?” He sighed. “Suppose it doesn’t matter much now.” He put his gun in the pocked of his overcoat. “Very well. I shall leave you to your fate.”

He began to walk away, not even giving her a final look. Jordan was surprised at how easy this was, but Cywren wasn’t convinced. She began to aim down her sights, fingers clutching the trigger of her pistol. 

“Cywren, don’t-“

“I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that you’d just let him walk away,” Sarah cut in, avoiding the catastrophe. “It’s amazing that the world hasn’t beaten that out of you.” She paused. “You’d just better hope that it doesn’t come back to bite you.”

Before there was time to dwell on that comment for too long, she spoke again. “Now, let’s get this place locked down.”

“What…?” Cywren left the question lingering in the air as Sarah rushed off. She glanced around, spotting a discarded shopping cart lying in the gravel. “Oh, here!”

She pushed past Copper and picked it up, placing it by the door to block entrance and exit. “There. Locked down.”

Her attempt at humor was not well received.

She coughed, walking off to find Sarah. In the right hand corner of the room was a metal staircase, which she climbed to find her teammate. Sarah was standing next to a window overlooking a room with various technologies inside. The Purifier.

“…To release the pressure, you’re going to have to turn the purifier on. Do you understand me?” Sarah was saying. “It has to be turned on NOW.”

Cywren nodded in response.

“If I’m reading this right, there are lethal levels of radiation inside that chamber.” She said urgntly. “I wish there was some other way, but there’s just no time. It has to be done now or the damage will be catastrophic. Well, so much for celebrating.” She sighed. “One of us has to go in there and turn the damned thing on. And whoever does isn’t coming back out.”

“So… One of us has die.” Cywren said quietly. “Or everyone else will.”

She offered a pained smile. “It’s… Not how I imagined going out, y’know?” She sighed. “So, what should we do? Draw straws?”

“We have to send someone in there to their death?!” Jordan asked, aghast.

Cywren and Sarah nodded somberly in sync.

“I don’t feel right sending anyone else in,” Cywren said decisively. “I’ll do it. I’ll start the purifier.”

“You’re going to have to be quick about it,” Sarah told her. “If the radiation is bad enough, you won’t have much time.” There was pain in her eyes as she said goodbye. “I won’t forget what you’ve done here. No one will. Thank you.”

Timebomb reached out, stopping her. “N-no! Cywren, you can’t die!”

Cywren shrugged, allowing a single tear to trail down her cheek. “Like father like daughter, right?”

“NO!” He bawled, dropping the ‘tough guy’ attitude that he managed to keep up throughout their journey. “YOU CAN’T DIE!! Y-YOU CAN’T! You can’t, Cywren…” He hugged her tightly.

She hugged back tighter. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be okay.”

He shakily nodded through tears.

“I’m coming too,” Jordan said determinedly.

She allowed it, but told Timebomb to stay back. He was sobbing too profusely to protest.

The duo stepped into the entrance chamber, the glass door sliding shut behind them. The entryway to the irradiated chamber dropped into the floor with a hiss, and both of them coughed simultaneously. There was definitely radiation in here, but they would live long enough to activate the purifier. They staggered forward and Cywren approached the keypad, which asked for a code to function.

“What’s the code…?” She muttered under her breath. “What’s the code?!”

Jordan thought hard. “…Vault 101? 101?”

She shook her head, applying some Radaway to buy them some time.

Sarah’s muffled cries from beyond the glass were enough to worry them into hurrying. “I don’t know the code!” Cywren said, panicking. “I-I don’t know!”

Jordan tried to pacify her. “Don’t panic- you’ll just breathe in more radiation.” He said. “Wait!” He shouted as an idea came to him. “REVELATION 2:16! 216!”

Cywren’s eyes lit up as she nodded vehemently, turning to the keypad.

2

1

6

Enter.

A huge white flash blinded them as radiation seeped into the chamber, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Cywren gasped, choking. Timebomb screamed, tears streaming down his face as he trust his hand on the glass wall in an attempt to break it but to no avail.

Jordan knelt by Cywren, his lungs burning for air but screaming in pain as all they received was radiation. “C-c-cy-cywren!” He mumbled, pained. “A-are you alright?”

“N-no,” She replied with a light laugh. “Thanks for c-c-coming in with m-me… I knew that y-y-you’d never left.”

“What?” Jordan exclaimed, falling over. She tilted her head to face him, eyes glassy. 

“I k-know who you are,” She said distantly. “I’d always knew, from the moment you said one word. J-jordan Frye, the voi-voice in my head.” She coughed. “I just n-never thought that y-you’d… Come… A-a-alive…”

“I was a-always alive,” Jordan assured her.

She smiled. “I know.”

Jordan tried to smile back, but was fading fast. “Hey… Can y-y-you do something f-for me?”

She nodded weakly.

“Give Red Goggles over th-there a c-c-chance?” He asked with a chuckle.

She smiled, looking at Timebomb crying into the glass. “Yeah. I will.”

The last thing either of them ever saw or heard was a figure in the window and Cywren’s last words.

“I promise.”

***

_And so it was that the Lone Wanderer ventured forth from Vault 101 intent on discovering the fate of a father who had once sacrificed the future of humanity for that of his only child. The Capital Wasteland proved a cruel and inhospitable place._

_It was not until the end of this long road that the Lone Wanderer learned the true meaning of that greatest of virtues – sacrifice. Stepping into the irradiated control chamber of Project Purity, the child followed the example of the father sacrificing life itself for the greater good of mankind._

_Thankfully, when selected by the sinister president to be his instrument of annihilation, the Wanderer refused. Humanity with all its flaws was deemed worthy of preservation. The waters of life flowed at last – free and pure, for any and all. The Capital Wasteland at long last was saved._

_So ends the story of the Lone Wanderer, who stepped through the great door of Vault 101 and into the annals of legend. But the tale of humanity will never come to a close, for the struggle of survival is a war without end, and war…_

_War never changes._


	24. I am NOT a Moron!

Cierra very quickly realized that “scared stiff” was not in fact just an expression.

GLaDOS’s huge, mechanical chassis swiveled to face them, her orange-yellow optic displaying amusement. Wires and white plates were all held together by beams and pipes, creating a sense of terror for anyone who had the misfortune of seeing her. Cierra, unfortunately, was the current target of her gaze. Her eyes were wide with horror, staring up at the huge mainframe with a combined sense of awe and abject terror.

GLaDOS appeared amused, but preferred not to outwardly show it. “Otherwise,” She said, her optical plate almost appearing to display a smirk. “I’m afraid you’re about to become the past-president of the being alive club. Ha ha.”

Her humor was not appreciated by Chell nor Cierra.

“But seriously, though.” Pincer-like mechanical arms descended from the ceiling, each carrying a boxed turret in their grasp. “Goodbye.”

Normally, this would be a major cause for concern. In this case, however, both humans knew that these were what Wheatley had dubbed the “crap turrets”- defective and completely harmless. A few moments after they were set down outside the glass walls of their confinement, they caught fire.

“Oh, this ain’t good.” Said one.

“Uh… Pow! Pow pow pow!” Chided another.

In a flash, all of them exploded, sending cracks traveling up the sides.

“Oh.” GLaDOS said, unfazed. “You were busy back there. Well, I suppose we could just sit in this room and _glare_ at each other until one of us drops dead.”

“Actually-“

GLaDOS cut Cierra off mid-sentence. “But I have a better idea.”

One of the panels in the walls slid back, allowing a tube to enter the chamber. Chell’s face flashed with alarm, but then slowly settled back into ease upon recollection of their most recent escapade.

“It’s your old friend: Deadly neurotoxin.” GLaDOS drawled. “If I were you I’d take a deep breath.”

The tube crashed through the glass.

“And hold it.”

Cierra did so, but Chell nudged her shoulder as a signal to stop. To the alarm of all three of them, the sound of neurotoxin hissing through the chamber was replaced by thumping and a familiar voice.

“Ow- Ow- Ow- Ow…” Wheatley tumbled through the tube, his optic fluttering in his socket. “Oh, hello!” He said as he tumbled into the glass confinement, destroying the glass barriers and rendering the “cage” a simple metal frame. Chell stepped outside, a smug look on her face.

GLaDOS was still a moment. “I hate you so much.” She said finally, optic narrowing.

Chell used her Portal gun to pick Wheatley up, stepping around the broken glass. Cierra followed, being less careful since she had the long fall boots. GLaDOS seemed prepared to offer another cynical remark as she searched for another way to kill them, but the announcer cut her off.

“Warning!” It warned in its usual, unhurried monotone. “Central core is 80% corrupt.”

“That’s funny,” GLaDOS said, almost chattily. “I don’t feel corrupt. In fact, I feel pretty good.”

“Alternate core detected.” The announced said to her, as if in reply.

“Oh!” Exclaimed Wheatley. “That’s _me_ they’re talking about!”

Chell’s expression brightened, her eyes alight as she began formulating a plan. Cierra could practically see the wheels turning in her head, but this plan was already in action without her immediate aid.

“To initiate a core transfer, please deposit alternate core in receptacle.” At these words, a small structure ascended from the floor. It honestly reminded Cierra of a computer plug.

“‘Core transfer…?’” Echoed GLaDOS, attempting desperately to appear to remain unnerved. “Oh, you are kidding me…”

Wheatley was overjoyed at her confusion. “I’ve got an idea!” He announced. “Do what it says! Plug me in!”

“Do NOT plug that little idiot into MY mainframe!” GLaDOS instructed icily, glaring at the two helplessly from her central chassis.

Chell ignored her, and rushed Wheatley to the plug. She tried to situate him in the attachment like she’d done before, but this one was tricky.

“Yes, _do_ plug that little idiot into her mainframe!” He argued, apparently oblivious to the fact that ‘little idiot’ was in fact an insult in this context.

The plug thing eventually accepted him, and he was attached to the thing. “Substitute core accepted,” The announcer blared. “Substitute core, are you ready to start the procedure?”

“Yes!” Wheatley said firmly.

“Corrupted core, are you ready to start?”

“NO!” Shouted GLaDOS, whirling around in confusion and fury to face the voice that appeared to come from everywhere.

“Oh, yes she is.”

“Nonononononononono!”

“Stalemate detected.” The announcer decided. “Transfer procedure cannot continue.”

“YES.” GLaDOS counted this as a triumph, whereas Wheatley faded into hysterics.

“PULLMEOUTPULLMEOUTPULLMEOUTPULLMEOUT!“ He screamed.

“Please have a stalemate associate press the Stalemate Resolution Button.” Requested the announcer in blatant disregard for the chaos ensuing in the chamber.

Hah, leave it to Aperture Science. Always have a button for everything.

“Wait, leave me in!” Wheatley revised his previous ‘command.’ “Leave me in! Go press it!”

“Don’t do it.” Hissed GLaDOS.

Chell ignored her and dashed into the room adjacent from the chamber, where a button was positioned. It quickly grew closer and closer until-

A panel flew upwards, launching Chell into a midair backflip and across the chamber. Startled but used to this kind of predicament, Chell stuck her feet out and prepared for a landing…

Yet missed.

The angle of her fall was not parallel to the ground as usual, but instead in such a way that she landed in a skid, her long fall boots forced to bear the blunt of the trauma. The bottoms were designed to absorb any impact, but the sides were not so. Aperture was not known for precision, and this unfortunate trait became very apparent very fast to Chell.

As she made impact with the ground, the boots snapped in half, the absorbent black bar detaching from the actual boot itself and skidding across the paneled floor. Chell tumbled to a halt in front of Cierra, recovering fast. She stared down at the remnants of her boots, which were not rendered useless. Regardless, it only took a dismissive shake of the head to get her moving again.

“Not so fast,” Chided GLaDOS. “You need to be a trained stalemate associate to press that button. You’re unqualified.”

Cierra scoffed and Chell rolled her eyes, the two making a break for the room with the button. More panels popped up on the side of the button that they were facing, basically creating a wall that moved to where they were. Chell fired a portal opposite herself and hopped through, running to the button and outrunning the wall. She glanced back at Cierra, who was infinitely impressed.

“Don’t listen to her, alright?” Wheatley instructed. “It is true that you don’t have the proper qualifications but you have something much more important than that: A finger! With which to press that button so that she won’t kill us.” 

Chell did just that.

“Oh!” GLaDOS began wildly sparking, thrashing about until she fell limp, dangling from the ceiling as nothing more than a talking robot suspended in the air. Powerless. The one thing that she thought she’d never be. Her hatred for Chell was chocked up a few notches.

“Stalemate resolved.” Said the announcer.

“Here we go!” Shouted Wheatley gleefully. Chell smiled, exhaling a breath and leaning on the button. Cierra clapped as if it were a fantastical occasion, as well it might be.

Wheatley’s joy seemed to falter slightly as the plug-thing began to descend into the floor. “Wait, what if this hurts? What if this _really_ hurts? Oh, I didn’t think of that…”

Neither did Chell or Cierra, really. Too busy dealing with homicidal, sarcastic robots to worry about it hurting.

“Oh it will,” Muttered GLaDOS, the chassis shifting slightly. “Believe me, it will.”

Chell frowned, thinking it over. Perhaps this was more than they’d signed up for. A small thought tugged at the back of Cierra’s mind, and she tried to think of what happened next. She’d played the game- She should know the events that occur. And yet her mind remained blank.

“Is she just saying that, or is it really gonna hurt?!” Wheatley asked worriedly. “You’re just saying that, aren’t you? You’re just saying… No, no you’re not. It’s really gonna hurt, isn’t it?” He was almost gone now, his voice the only thing left of him above the floor. “Exactly how painful are we talki- AAAAAGH!”

Apparently quite.

Before Chell could react, the floor beneath GLaDOS opened up, a hundred small robotic arms reaching upwards. A gap yawned below, a barrier rising to block their view of the core transfer. “Get your hands of me-“ GLaDOS shouted, mechanical voice faltering and displaying a more human element.

GLaDOS the undefeated, the brilliant, the cunning, the _perfect_ , was afraid.

“No, no!” She screamed. “Stop! No! NOoOoOOoo!!” The barrier was obstructing their ability to see what was going on, but the writhing chassis and her pained screech was chilling enough to paint a vivid enough picture for Chell and Cierra. The former visibly shuddered.

The terrifying core transfer lasted only a few moments before GLaDOS’s core dropped to the side, and the scream came to an abrupt halt. Instead, it was replaced by a whoop from Wheatley.

“Whoooooa!”

The barrier sank back into the floor, allowing a full view of Wheatley spinning around in the central mainframe. His handles had been removed, which was most likely the source of the pain, and were replaced by four rounded panels from his old shell surrounding his main blue optic. It was odd to think that a blue lightbulb with a British accent could display such emotion, but such laws of doubt were abolished by Wheatley’s sheer happiness in this moment.

Chell slowly approached, her cautious manner melted as she came forward to enjoy their victory. Cierra grinned, standing in front of him.

“Check me out, team! We did it! I’m in control of the whole facility now!” He kept spinning in circles, the panels that made up the chamber shifting and contracting like a school of fish to mirror his every action. “Whoa-ho-ho, would you look at this! Not too bad, eh? Giant robot! Massive! It’s not just me, right? I am bloody massive aren’t I?”

Chell rolled her eyes in a sort of playful manner, watching him marvel at his own control for a moment. It was over. They’d won. A leap and a bound and they’d be out of here, away from the never ending nightmare of a facility. There was time to spare to allow Wheatley to enjoy what was quite possibly the one victory in his short life.

“Oh, right the escape lift.” Wheatley only just now recalled this, much to Chell’s relief. “I’ll call it now.” In a few moments, an elevator ascended from the floor. “There we go! Lift called!”

Chell tugged at Cierra’s sleeve, limping slightly with her broken long fall boots. They walked towards the lift, stepping inside.

“Look how small you are down there!” Wheatley remarked, swiveling to face them. “Very tiny and insignificant!”

Cierra’s brow furrowed. That was out of character.

“Lemme tell ya, I knew it was going to be cool to be in charge of everything!” He chattered. Toying with his commands, several companion cubes fell from the ceiling and landed in an Aerial Faith Plate maze, something Chell had a disliking to. Confetti rained down as well, something else that Chell didn’t like.

“Wow, this is _cool_!”

She disagreed.

“And I’m a bloody genius now!” Wheatley told them as the elevator shuddered to life and began to climb upwards.

_So close to freedom…_

"Estás usando este software de traducción de forma incorrecta. Por favor, consulta el manual.” Wheatley said, moving left and right statically in a deeper tone. “I don’t even know what I just said!” He admitted, voice still chipper. “But I can find out!”

Chell shifted back and forth anxiously.

“This body is amazing, seriously! I can’t get over how small you are!” He said. “But I’m huge! Haha… Ha…”

Wheatley’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. The once happy core now shifted to sinister, his laugh shifting to a maniacal cackle. “AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”

The duo’s eyes widened with fear. They had set out to defeat GLaDOS, but they may have just created a new one.

“Ha ha…” He chuckled. “Hm. Actually…”

The elevator shuddered to a halt. “Why do we have to leave right now?”

Cierra pressed herself against the glass, shaking her head vehemently. “NO!”

“Do you have ANY idea how good this feels?” He asked, the panels shifting from their usual light blue to a deep red. “ _I_ did this! Tiny little Wheatley did this!”

GLaDOS’s core took this entirely opportune time to pipe up. “You didn’t do anything.” She growled. “They did all the work.”

“Oh, is that what the three of you think, is it?” He hissed. “Well. Maybe it’s time I _did_ something then.”

A mechanical claw arm reached out from the gap, grabbing onto GLaDOS’s severed core and dragging it down. “What are you doing?” She asked, aghast. “No!” Her protests were cut short as the arms got to work.

“And don’t think that I’m not on to you, too, humans.” He said, angrily turning to face Chell and Cierra.

“What did we do?!” Cierra exclaimed.

“All you’ve done is _boss me around_. Well now who’s the boss?” He inched closer. “Who’s the boss?” His optic was so close, it was almost touching the glass. Fury radiated from his blue gaze, optical plates narrowed in obvious fury. Wheatley was gone. 

“It’s me.”

A small _ding,_ almost like that of a microwave oven timer, rang out as one of the arms raised a small object into the air.

“Ah!” Wheatley said in approval.

The arm maneuvered the object so that it was right in front of the glass, allowing them to get a closer look. It was, in fact, a-

“That,” Said Wheatley. “Is a potato battery. It’s a toy! For children. And now, She lives in it.” He chuckled.

“I know you…” GLaDOS said, her static lined voice coming from the potato battery’s lightbulb.

“Ha, uhm, what?” He asked, swiveling to face her with optic narrowed.

“The engineers tried everything to make me behave,” She said, clearly making an effort just to talk. “To slow me down. Once, they even attached an Intelligence Dampening Sphere on me. It clung to my brain like a tumor, generating an endless stream of _terrible_ ideas.”

Wheatley’s optic widened in panic and he turned away. “No, not listening! Not listening!”

“It was _your_ voice.”

“No!” He shouted. “You’re lying! Y-you’re lying!”

“Yes,” She hissed, enjoying his reaction immensely. “You’re the tumor. You’re not just a regular moron. You were _designed_ to be a moron.”

“I AM NOT A MORON!” He shouted, using the arm to small the potato into the glass elevator and causing various cracks in the wall.

“YES YOU ARE!” She screamed at him. “YOU’RE THE MORON THEY BUIT TO MAKE ME AN IDIOT!”

Fury oozed from Wheatley’s resentful words as he smashed “POTaTOS" into the elevator, shattering the glass. “WELL HOW ABOUT NOW? NOW WHO’S A MORON?” The mechanical arm positioned itself above the elevator before smashing down, bashing the top of it and sending it farther into the floor.

“COULD A MORON PUNCH-“

_Smash._

“YOU!“

_Smash._

“INTO!”

_Smash._

“THIS!”

_Smash._

“PIT, HUH? COULD A MORON DO THAT?” He screamed at them from above.

A groaning creak echoed all around them as the floor began to give way.

“Uh oh.”

The ground shattered, sending Chell and Cierra plummeting into the abyss below. The wind screamed in their ears, almost as loud as their raging thoughts. Wheatley- Their ally, their helping hand,

Their friend.

And he’d betrayed them.

Cierra was still in a sense of saddened disbelief, sort of like a dream. It was difficult to wrap her head around the events that just occurred before their eyes.

“So,” POTaTOS broke into their thoughts. “How are you holding up? BECAUSE I’M A POTATO.”

A slow clap followed her words.

“Oh good. My slow clap processor made it into this thing. So we have that.” She said bitterly.

Cierra sent her a glare. Chell tapped her shoulder lightly, and she turned in midair. She pointed to her shattered long fall boots, and both of them came to the same horrific realization.

Chell had no boots.

This tunnel had no end in sight.

If she fell, she would die.

One of them would have to sacrifice themselves for the other.

There were a few moments of stunned silence before Cierra spoke up. “You need to go on.”

Chell’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“Yes, you do.” Cierra insisted. “You have to get out of here.”

Her expression was pained, but she nodded stiffly.

“I’ll give you my shoes.” Cierra told her, unstrapping the long fall boots and handing them to Chell. Chell took them gingerly in her hands, taking off her own and replacing them with the undamaged ones that Cierra gave her.

She looked up at Cierra with a face of gratitude. Though she never spoke, there were more than enough words between them.

Cierra gave her a nod. “You can do this. Defeat him, okay?”

The ground was rushing towards them at an immense speed, leering only a hundred feet away. Cierra closed her eyes, only able to catch one last word competing with the rage of the wind before everything went back.

“Okay.”


	25. Final Expedition

“Here, catch.”

“Whoa whoa whoa-!“ Steve reached out his hand just in time to catch Bethany, who was rapidly falling to the floor due to the sudden weight of the sword that Bry had thrown at her.

Bethany caught the thing and fell backwards into Steve, who righted her. “Thanks,” She said to him before giving Bry an unamused face.

“No problem…” Steve shot Bry an ‘I’ll kill you later’ glare, which was responded to with a shrug. He sighed. “So, we ready?”

Bethany nodded, sliding the diamond sword into her sheath. It wasn’t as heavy now that it wasn’t rocketing towards her who-knows-how-fast, but it still would probably be difficult to use it in combat with limited experience. She could tell that Bry thought that they were all doomed, but she remained optimistic about the situation. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We gear up and head to the portal,” Steve responded.

“And then we kill the dragon!” Bry cut in, beaming as he stuffed potions into a knapsack.

Steve didn’t object. “Don’t use ‘em all at once,” He warned.

Bry rolled his eyes, sealing the sack and strapping it to his back. “I know. I’m careful.” A pause. “Well… Careful _enough_. I haven’t died yet.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it. “…Alright. Are we ready to head out?”

“Yep!” Bethany and Bry said at the same time. Bethany grinned and Bry extended a hand for a high five. She took it, and Steve rolled his eyes with a short huff.

Steve held open the doors of the house, allowing them all to leave. They offered thanks, pushing through the crowd that had gathered ever since Bry had “accidentally” screamed “WE’RE GOING TO KILL THE DRAGON!” at the top of his lungs. Ignoring their warnings and barrage of questions, they made their way to the edge of the village and into the treeline. Oddly, there was only one lone voice that cried out the words that they sorely needed.

“Good luck!”

***

The cave was, for the most part, silent. A few bats screeched in the far recesses of the dark, cloaked in shadow so they appeared to be simply ripples in the air, a trick of the eye. Had they not been making such noise, perhaps they would have been interpreted as such. The walls were made of stone, slightly damp from the early morning showers from days previous. Moss and vines stretched down from the ceiling, which appeared solid but upon further inspection would reveal that green vines resembling tentacles snaked through every crack and crevice, grasping for holds in the crumbling stone. Every now and again a bat would scramble for a place to perch, dangling from one of the stones held together by the plant material, only to be sent tumbling down as that particular stone came lose and fell.

One of these stones found their way onto Bry’s head, giving him a nice sized lump. “Ow,” He muttered placidly under his breath. He shook off the pieces of gravel and continued on his way, glancing behind him every few moments.

Steve rolled his eyes, raising his torch to see ahead. “We’re close,” He said, stepping over a crack in the floor. “I think the dungeon is just up ahead.”  
“Right-o,” Said Bethany, shifting to the side to avoid a cobweb. Her grasp tightened on her sword and she looked around, expecting something to jump out at them. Where there’s a web, there’s a spider. When nothing came, she relaxed and walked a bit faster.

The cavern they were currently split into two paths, so they voted by majority to take the left side. This promptly let to a lava pit, and despite Bry’s adamant suggestion that the dungeon must in fact be _under_ the lava and they should construct a device to tunnel through it, they ignored him and left. He refused to come, and only showed up after they threatened to leave him and left the path for a few minutes. When he rejoined them, they took the pathway to the right.

After a few minutes, a light appeared after they rounded a turn. After they got close enough, they recognized the dim yellow glow of fire, and sped up. Once they reached the end, the trail led to a huge library, lit with wooden torch chandeliers and a fireplace that was most likely the cause of the glow. Bookshelves formed a sort of labyrinth through the decayed wooden structure, cobwebs strewn about the floor just about as much as they were across the ceiling itself. Someone- or something- had been through here before.

“This is amazing,” Breather Bethany. “An entire library, hidden underground.”

Bry picked up a pick that had been knocked off of its shelf by the previous visitor. “Who would build this just for themselves? Lock away all of this knowledge. I’ve never seen so many books in my life.”

“I don’t think it was one person,” Steve told them, swapping out their torch (which was rapidly being reduced to charred charcoal by the flame) with one of the ones lining the walls, which was somehow in much better shape. “I mean- this couldn’t have been one person. How could they find enough time to…” He trailed off, looking around in sheer awe. “They must’ve lived down here.”

Bethany’s attention, unlike the other’s, was quickly drifting away from the library and instead to the door set into the far wall. “Guys, over here.” She said, making her way towards it. She peeked outside, seeing a huge corridor built of carved stone bricks and lines with torches and redstone lamps. The entire structure appeared to be an elaborate, hand-crafted maze. Which, if luck allowed, would lead them straight to the end portal.

Bry was the first to join her. “Whoa,” He sighed. “More to explore, then. We better mark this on the map.”

Steve came up behind him. “Yeah. Definitely. Once we’re not on a time sensitive mission, we need to come back her and chart this place.”

The two nodded. Bethany seemed a bit sad, since this meant that she wasn’t going to be coming back to see this again. “Well, let’s head out. No time to lose.” She urged, pushing her thoughts away.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Bry agreed, taking the torch from Steve and charging ahead. “Dibs on front.”

Steve protested only a moment before tailing behind him, Bethany following in suit. Their footsteps echoed throughout the caverns, the light flickering against the wall and making their warped shadows fall in and out of existence. The torches appeared more and more worn, the flames microscopically trailing down their wooden handles. By the time the corridor widened into several doorways, Steve pointed something out.

“Guys, stop.” He said, his voice low and dead serious.

They obliged. “What? Why?” Asked Bry, seemingly annoyed. 

“The torches.”

“Yeah… What about ‘em?”

“Remember how ours was almost gone by the time we got here?”

Bry seemed to consider this a moment. “Yeah. The flame was eating up the handle.”

Steve gestured to the wall of torches. “Look at these.”

Bethany and Bry seemed to understand what he was trying to get them to understand. “So… You’re saying that…” Bethany said slowly.

“Someone’s been here. Very recently. Replacing the torches.”

Silence ensued as the trio thought this through. Finding nothing to debunk this, the tension in the air seemed to skyrocket.

“The author of the book,” Bethany mumbled suddenly. “The Scythian’s been here. Still conducting research.”

Bry glanced behind him, bristling. “You think we’ve been followed?”

Steve shook his head. “I doubt it. If the Scythian’s been following us, then I’m sure that an appearance would have been made by now. He pointed ahead. “Let’s move before we’re noticed.”

They nodded, giving a final check behind their backs before continuing on their way. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched where they would never think to look. As they passed through door after door, something trailed behind. Something managed to get past every locked door that Bry had sealed as a precaution.

And this particular something had purple eyes.

As well as a bookbag slung across its shoulder.

***

A final door opened and shut. The trio filtered into the final chamber, sighing with relief and awe that they had finally made it after being lost multiple times. The door shut behind them (by itself, but this went unnoticed), and they stepped forward a few paces to examine the space. It was a simple room for the most part, constructed of stone bricks and cube-like in shape. There weren’t any torches for light, but instead a small pool of lava in the very center of the room. Hovering above the lava was a frame made of a material that the three of them have never seen. Its base was yellowish and looked like stone, and the top was a lavishly decorated marble holding space. Inside the holding space was an Eye of Ender, perfectly placed so that the slitted pupil was facing up. Connecting the frame was an inky black void, flecks of silver and purple drifted slowly inside it, looking like a window to space.

“The End Portal,” Breathed Bry, finally managing to speak.

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “That’s it.”

“And beyond there is the End, where we’ll kill the dragon?” Bethany clarified, approaching it.

Steve nodded. “If the book rings true. I guess we’ll only see.”

Bry checked his weapons, making sure that his backpack, iron sword, and bow and arrow was in its place. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

The trio approached the portal frame, almost fearfully. A distant hissing noise became present, but it was ignored. Bethany peered over the edge, hesitant to jump. The hissing grew louder, and they finally turned.

The stone was moving.

One of the sections of brick began to shudder in its place, like an egg about to hatch. Cracks began to form on its surface, until finally it shattered and something appeared in its place. It looked like a rather large bug, silver in color and had beady black eyes and tufts of dust drifting around it. Lacking legs, it began to slither towards them like a rather fat snake.

Bry, having been frightened moments before, scoffed. “Hah! What’s that? It can’t hurt us.”

The bug approached them, paused a moment, then screeched and jumped at them, baring its tiny needle-like teeth. Its jaw became suddenly buried in Bry’s leg, and he shouted with surprise and pain.

“GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF OF ME!!” He screamed, fumbling for his sword. Steve beat him to it and crushed the thing with the hilt of his blade.

“I know what those are,” He said urgently. “Those are silverfish! They’re in the bricks!”

As if on cue, the room melted into a silver array of the bugs, tumbling form the ceiling and pouring out of the walls. The screeching melted together to create a chorus of terror, mingling with the trio’s own shouts of warning and surprise. They drew their weapons, striking down many of them but receiving wounds and deep gouges from their fangs. 

Eventually, Steve called above the mayhem. “There are too many! We have to jump!”

“But there’s nothing to say that they won’t follow us!” Bry shouted in protest, swinging at a silverfish that had gone airborne.

“What’s the alternative?!” Bethany argued, stepping on one. “We stay and die or go and see what’s there. I vote we jump!”

Bry was too occupied to offer up a rebuttal.

“We go on three!” Steve instructed, stepping backwards. “One-“

“TWOTHREEGO!” Bry finished for him, jumping backwards and into the vortex. Bethany followed close behind, with Steve jumping in after her.

After the quite water-like void settled into its usual serenity, the silverfish paused a moment, exchanging nervous glances. After a second or two, the horde dispersed, sinking back into the stone walls. Not one dared to venture into the End Portal to follow the trio, avoiding even the smallest hint of ender essence that milled around the frame.

They’d learned.

***

The void was cold, dark, and almost entirely silent. Endermen drifted around on top of the endstone platforms, teleporting from one place to another though there was really no need. Tall obsidian spires towered into what only somewhat resembled a sky, crystal-like objects hovering above them. Every now and then, a small beam would extend from one of the crystals, connecting to a shadow of a creature that flew above.

The silence was suddenly shattered as a swirling portal opened a few feet above the ground. It possessed the same appearance as the one that the trio had fallen through to enter this dimension, though it was much smaller- maybe only 2x2. In a flash, three screaming figures plummeted out of it, landing on top of each other in a dogpile on the endstone ground. There was a series of jumbled grunts and complaints as they struggled, trying to get their bearings.

“Move your foot,” Bry whined, wriggling around.

“That’s not my foot!” Snapped Steve, pulling himself out of the pile.

“That’d be mine,” Bethany told him apologetically. “Sorry.”

Bry’s attitude shifted when he found that he wasn’t yelling at Steve, much to his chagrin. “Oh. Right, then.”

Once everyone was in order and standing up properly, they had the opportunity to survey the landscape. Admittedly, there was not much to look at. They avoided the gaze of the endermen, which was a difficult task.

“Whoa,” Said Steve finally. “This is…”

“Incredible.” Finished Bethany.

Bry apparently didn’t share in their amazement. “Not really. It’s a few floating islands and a couple of towers in a big black void of nothing.”

They gave him looks, which he ignored.

“Now,” He continued. “Next up on our to-do list: Find ourselves a drago- WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!”

Just as he said that, the enormous figure that had previously been restricted to a simple shadow but was now descending upon them at an alarming rate. The three of them scrambled for their weapons, but quickly gave up on that idea when the figure was right on top of them. They dove for cover as the figure swooped in.

“You think that’s the dragon?” Breathed Steve.

“NO DUH!” Chorused Bry and Bethany.

The dragon circled around, purple eyes narrowed as smoke billowed from its nostrils. It flapped its huge wings, beating at the air with tremendous force. Its tail lashed back and forth, like a cat stalking its prey. This was the Ender Dragon.

And they’d have to fight and kill it.

Wonderful.

There was a collective gasp as they couldn’t help but admire the creature. It had a certain majesty about it, like an aura of beauty. Somehow, they regretted the fact that it had to be slain.

This regret suddenly vanished as it began to dive down towards them with teeth bared.

Bry screamed, jumping to the side and slashing it as it passed by. Its scales were easily sliced through, more like wood than the steel the creature is credited with. Inky black blood seeped onto Bry’s sword, coating the blade in an oil-like substance. The dragon reared back and circled the sky again, nearing one of the towers. When it got close, a white beam extended from the gem on its peak to the creature, sealing the wound almost instantaneously.

Steve spoke what was running through all of their minds. “We’ve gotta take out the towers! It’s healing the dragon!”

“Got it!” Steve shouted back, searching their things for a bow and arrow. Finding one, he began to launch the projectiles at the gems.

The dragon caught on to their attack pattern quickly, roaring and diving back down again. Bethany drove her sword into its hide as it neared, Bry’s blade slashing down its side. It screeched, shaking its head around and knocking into Bry, sending him sprawling. The blade was still driven into its back, but Bethany had retrieved her sword. The dragon made an attempt to heal once more, but its skin tried to heal over the blade. This apparently caused it immense pain, because it screeched and flew away from the towers. This allowed Steve more time to destroy the healing crystals.

“There’s one left!” Steve called a few attack cycles later, reaching back to find another arrow. His hand clasped at air, and his eyes widened in shock. “I HAVE NO MORE ARROWS!” He yelped.

Bry seemed to have been waiting for this occasion, as he’d been pouting ever since his sword had been taken. “I have an idea!” He announced, reaching into his potion bag. He produced a pure white elixir. “I brought the last prototype of the potion I was working on! Y’know- all the effects!”

Steve’s face took on an unreadable expression. “You can’t use that!” He shouted. “We don’t know what it’ll do and it might hurt you!”

The dragon was diving again, and they only just dodged. “We’re running out of options!” Bethany told them. “My sword’s breaking fast! What’s the worst that could happen?”  
“MY BROTHER COULD DIE!” Steve thundered. “I CAN’T LET THAT HAPPEN!”

“If you don’t let me do this, then all of us will die!” Bry argued, unplugging the cork. “You have to trust me! Just for this once!”

Steve seemed to think it over. His eyes teared and he finally screamed “FINE! RISK YOUR LIFE FOR ALL I CARE! GO AHEAD!”

Bry hesitated, hand shaking on the bottle as his eyes clouded. His face hardened and he held the bottle to his mouth. “I WILL!” He downed it in three gulps.

At once, he screamed and fell to the ground, pixels dancing around him to create a tornado of chaos. The dragon itself seemed to loom above, watching with curiosity in its eyes. There was a deep rumbling noise as all of a sudden a huge explosion came from the eye of the storm, and Bry stood in the center.

He got up.

He turned.

And when he opened his eyes, they flared a pure white.

The pixel storm calmed, and there was an eerie silence as even the endermen feared to move. Steve stood in sheer shock, and Bethany was racking her brain as recognition tugged at her mind. She’d seen him before. She knew it…

Bry grinned. “Hey, brother.” His voice was slightly warped, a tad of an echo present. “Guess it worked.”

Steve shook his head, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “Bry?” He stammered.

Bry shrugged. “Yeah. It’s me. Well, last time I checked.”

The dragon roared, reminding them of their current predicament. Their eyes turned to it, and Bry offered a determined smile. “Well, what’re we waiting for? Let’s kill us a dragon and get Bethany home!”

Bry jumped into the air, teleporting and landing on the dragons’s back. “Didn’t expect that!” He admitted, dashing faster than any of them thought possible up the dragon’s tail and up to the final pillar.

He shrugged, getting ready to punch it. “Well,” He said smugly. “Guess all I have to do is-“

“WAITBRYTHEPILLARSEXPLODEDON’TTOUCH-“ Steve tried to warn, but was too late.

Bry destroyed the crystal, letting lose a huge explosion and sending him toppling off of the pillar. The dragon, having been close, was also affected and screeched a final time. It erupted into a shower of light, experience orbs toppling from the sky along with Bry.

“BRY!!” Bethany and Steve screamed, dashing towards him. The dragon fell first, landing on the void and sending cracks through its surface. Bry fell right after it, landing on the ground and creating a crater in his wake.

They approached, kneeling next to Bry’s body. “Nononono,” Steve sputtered, tears threatening to spill. “Please don’t die, Bry. C’mon, wake up…”

As if complying, Bry’s eyes fluttered open. He sat up, rubbing his head. He glanced around feverishly, a confused expression on his face. “W-who are you?!” He demanded, rising to his feet. “Why am I here?!”

Steve’s face fell. “Bry? I’m Steve. I-I’m your brother!”

Bry frowned, as if trying to remember. “I don’t have a brother.” He growled.

Before anyone could say anything else, an enormous cracking noise rang out across the landscape. The sheer size of the dragon had broken through the floating island, and the entire thing was starting to crumble.

“RUN!” Shouted Steve. “GET TO THE PORTAL!”

Making no attempt to assist his brother, Bry simply teleported away from the crumbling area, leaning against the portal frame. Steve looked more hurt than anything, trying desperately to reach him. The endstone crumbled behind them, and Bethany was falling behind. Steve was too wrapped up with what was going on to notice the fact that Bethany wasn’t far enough to escape. He never noticed that she slipped and fell.

He turned only in time to notice her fall.

“NOOOO!” He screamed, dashing forward but pausing as the rest of the island collapsed. There wasn’t time to lose- she was gone. They had to get through the portal. He turned, seeing that Bry had gone, and jumped through the vortex again.

 

They landed with a thud in the overworld, dust and sweat caking their faces. Steve stood up, exhausted, and hugged Bry. “I thought you were dead,” He mumbled. 

Bry stiffened and didn’t return the hug. He pushed Steve off, his eyes narrowed. “My name isn’t Bry,” He told him simply. “It’s Herobrine.”

With a flash of purple, what used to be Steve’s little brother was gone, leaving only one line of text in Steve’s vision.

 

_BethanyFrye has left the game_


	26. For You and Your Denial

Rochelle sat in the darkened corner of the safe house, scowling into her knees with her forehead resting on them. Her eyes were narrowed, staring straight forward and not trained to anything in particular. Every now and then she’d give the opposite corner of the room a half-glance, watching the other, less still figure with a resentful eye. Why was it that the moment this boy was brought here, they’d turned against each other? She meant to protect them, but Nick and Ellis endangered their own survival just to keep this one infected alive. Even Coach was doubting Rochelle’s choices! It was driving her slowly mad.

Not literally, of course.

But in Isaac’s case, it was quite literal.

Nick had kept Isaac under a watchful eye, pity in his gaze. He could tell that whatever the boy was going through was not easy. He himself would never have to face such a thing, and thus he reasoned that he’d probably never understand. He sympathized as best he could, though, mostly due to the fact that there was really nothing else he could do.

Coach had been busying himself with anything that would occupy his mind, which ranged from organizing and reorganizing the weapons, mindlessly drawing diagrams of possible routes with charcoal on the wall, drawing a mustache on the sleeping Ellis, to various other activities to help him avoid Rochelle. It was getting increasingly difficult to do so, as her eyes sometimes fixed on his with silent condemning. Currently, he had just been sitting and thinking about how they’d get Isaac outside when he turned, and sometimes his mind would wander to what kind of infected he’s turn out to be. Smoker, by the looks of it.

Isaac’s appearance had dramatically shifted from when he’d first landed in this Realm. His eyes had shifted to a deep green, a dull glow coming from them whenever they flickered open for a brief moment. His hands were jet black, but weren’t shriveled like the other infecteds of his type. In traditional Smoker style, a baconlike appendage lolled out of his mouth. Unlike what everyone appears to believe, the appendage is not in fact their tongue, but rather a thick extra arm that they use in combat. Their tongues are normal and are used for speech, when they’re not rotted off. Isaac’s skin had become a deep gray, and his hair had darkened in color. His clothes were tattered, his t-shirt torn in places and jeans fraying and ripped up. Dark dreams tormented his mind as he fitfully tried to sleep. He was changing, and changing fast.

_Turn_

_Turn_

_Turn_

_You’ll never see them again_

_Turn_

_Turn_

_Turn_

_Too much was left unsaid_

Isaac shuddered, clutching his head to try and get the Infected instinct out of him. Nick frowned, muttering “It’s too late. We have to finish it” under his breath. Isaac heard, and it only seemed to make everything worse.

_Turnturnturnturnturnturn_

**_NO._**

Isaac _defied_ the voices. He _defied_ the changing. He _defied_ the inevitable. No zombie, no apocalypse, no dark force of hell would keep him away from his family. No matter what happened, he was going to see them again. He was going to make it through. He was going to survive.

He jumped to his feet and tried to take a step, falling to the ground. He extended a hand, trying to push himself up. Once he made it to his feet, he staggered a bit but then steadied himself. He glanced to the others, expecting at least a bit of relief from his comrades, but instead of staring into the faces of friends…

He found himself staring into the barrel of a shotgun.

Isaac was taken aback, startled to say the least. He opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn’t. He tried to take a step but once again found himself unable. Fear pulsed through him, his eyes widening.

“Kid,” Nick stuttered, face pained. “Calm down.”

Isaac’s hand lurched forward without his consent, swiping at the barrel of the gun. It flew out of Nick’s hands, crashing into the wall and nearly shattering on impact. Isaac was startled at his own strength, though he wasn’t sure that this counted as him anymore. Rochelle barked a command to Coach, who tossed a pistol to Ellis.

“Kid, stop it!” Ellis warned. “Stop this or we’re gonna have to shoot!”

The appendage in Issac’s mouth lashed at the pistol, wrapping around it and tossing it to the ground. It then proceeded to knock Ellis into the wall, and he slumped over, unconscious.

“ELLIS!” Shouted Rochelle, grabbing a medical kit and rushing to his side. “SHOOT HIM, COACH!”

Coach reached for another pistol, but Nick pushed his hand away. “Wait!”

“WE’VE WAITED ENOUGH!” Rochelle thundered. “We listened to you and waited for the kid to turn, and now look! What were you expecting to happen?!”

Nick hesitated, fixing her with a look that Isaac couldn’t read. “Give. Me. A moment.”

“WE. DON’T. HAVE. A. MOMENT.”

“‘We’ don’t. I do.” Nick stood, approaching the trembling Isaac.

Isaac, or whatever was controlling him, pausing, looking at Nick. There was a moment of silence as everyone held their breath in anxiety.

“Kid.” Nick breathed. “I don’t know if you’re hearing this, or if you’re really awake anymore. But what I do know right now is that it’s the end of the world. Anything goes. We’ve survived by fighting and shooting and killing, watching death and destructing rage around us every day, never flinching. We live in a world where all we have is each other, and everyone else is dead. There’s no hope.

“And then all of a sudden you come along, surrounded by infected and doomed. You had no weapon. You had no medkits. And, to most, that meant that you had no hope. But somehow, you survived. You didn’t give up, even though to anyone else that moment up there on the roof meant certain death. We came and saved you- a living human. Another reason to hope that it’ll end. Another reason for us to keep going. It seems like a hopeless battle out here, fighting for a world that’s already ended. There’s nothing left to lose, but there’s nothing left to gain either. And yet we cling to life.

“We were giving up. We were losing it. We were being forced into the same monotonous nightmare day after day, believing that it would never get better… Until you showed up and proved to us that there is still hope for this world. A single living human pops up amongst a million of the undead. There’s still a chance for this world. There’s still a chance for us. And there is still a chance for you. If you can hear me, just try as hard as you can to get control of yourself. I know you’re still in there, Isaac. Please, please, please just try.”

Nick’s eyes pleaded, and he slowly began to approach. Isaac tried to move, but wasn’t able to control himself. Whatever was in command of him stilled, shifting back and forth as if contemplating Nick’s words. There was a low, rumbling hiss at the back of his throat, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he tilted his head to the side. The dull glow in his eyes pulsed for a moment, flickering like a candle flame.

“Nick,” Rochelle warned as he stepped closer.

“It’s okay,” Nick assured her, not glancing back. “It’s just Isaac-“

The Smoker that was Isaac screeched, its tonguelike appendage striking Nick in the side and wrapping around his chest. He shouted something that was inaudible to Isaac, who was struggling to move by himself. Nick’s eyes were wide with fear as he struggled in Isaac’s grasp. In the flurry of panic, Isaac managed to choke out two simple words to the survivors.

“I’m sorry.”

Rochelle had grabbed a pistol.

Isaac never heard the gunshot that ended it.


	27. r e s p a w n

Darkness. 

It is not beginning or end, nor death or life. It was simply the absence of all perception, a total shadow of mind. A cloak, that under which everything is hidden.

And that’s where the ending really begins.

As most everyone knows, the VenturianTale siblings live for adventure, seeking them through games and family and friends. Until now, simple feats of reality would suffice as an adventure, as it does for most. But now, there was something else at hand.

 

Friends were lost.

Sacrifices were made.

Journeys were had.

Battles were won.

 

They faced doom.

They faced destruction.

They faced war.

They faced death.

 

They fought.

They defended.

They believed.

They prevailed.

 

I suppose that some might call that chaos, or mayhem, or just plain unpleasant. Other will claim that it’s the farthest from fun that you can get, or it’s just traumatic. Most will agree that it’s nothing that anyone would do all over again, and that anyone would want to just go home and try to forget.

But last time I checked, they weren’t there to live it.

The siblings got to embark on the journey of a lifetime, fighting through every enemy that came after them. They were able to dash through the fantasies that any fanboy or girl would only dream of catching a fleeting glimpse of. They were able to look the characters that they’d created in the face, shake their hands. They stared death in the face, and pushed past it to save one another. They fought through fire and fury and danger to save each other, and gave it all in the end.

Now isn’t that what you’d call a true adventure?

VenturianTale.

The warriors.

The leaders.

The enders of chaos.

The bringers of hope.

The dreamers.

The believers.

The True Adventurers.

 

They trekked through the bowels of Aperture Science to face a rogue AI. They ran through an apocalypse and brought faith back to a broken team. They marched to war alongside comrades to defend their home. They stood against impossible odds and braved the unknown to face a dragon. They stood, they fell, they got back up, and they prevailed. And they’d do it all over again.

How?

Like true gamers.

Click respawn.


	28. Reborn

The courtyard was alight with the dimming light of day, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting an array of colors across the star dotted sky. There were many clouds milling around the landscape, lower than usual, signifying that the day would grow to be quite overcast. Chilly evening winds danced through the corridors of the vacant Creepypasta High School, the only living being within the premises being a certain murderer in the center of 4 collapsing vortexes.

Jimmy Casekt shifted in his restless sleep, muttering nonsensical things under his breath. His knife was a few feet away, discarded since it gave him a cut when he tried to preform tricks with it. Unbeknownst to him, the vortexes were closing up, signals from his ghostly allies that his targets had been lost. Which meant, to him at least, that his plan was doomed and they were coming straight to him. Once once they figured out what they could do…

It would not end well for him.

In a quick flash, the vortexes were completely gone, the last wisps of their energy vanishing in the illumination of the streetlamps, which were flickering on one by one across the city. For a few moments, all seemed to be silently at peace. After those moments came to an end, that peace was almost instantaneously shattered. However, unlike most grand entrances, there was no fanfare to mark the heroes’ arrival, nor no grand spectacle in the sky as they descended from another vortex. Instead, there were only four short sentences.

_Venturian has joined the game._

_BethanyFrye has joined the game._

_HomelessGoomba has entered the game._

_ImmortalKyodai has entered the game._

They say that actions speak louder than words, but in this case I believe that nothing could have been louder than this for Casket.

Four figured spawned in the parking lot of the school, panting and wheezing for air. Jordan coughed, sinking to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Bethany spawned lying on her back, eyes wide as if she was still falling. She sat up, getting her bearings. Cierra was seemingly asleep for the first few seconds, but then bolted upright, glancing around. Isaac spawned facedown, unmoving.

The siblings caught their breath, and then took in the fact that they were all together again. Once it sunk in, they all laughed and hugged each other tightly.

“Oh my gosh I’m so glad you all are okay!” Jordan exclaimed, laughing through happy tears.

“I thought we were doomed!” Bethany grinned.

“I was sure that were were going to be stuck here forever!” Cierra smiled. “And when I fell down the elevator shaft when Wheatley turned-“

“Hold up,” Jordan stopped her. “Wheatley? You got to go into _Portal_?!”

Cierra nodded.

“ _LUCKY_!” He shouted. “I was in Fallout, though, so I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

“Did you get to meet Cywren?!” Bethany asked enthusiastically. “Was she like I drew her?”

“Yep!” He chuckled. “And Timebomb and Sarah and Copper and Quasar!”

“I got to meet Steve and Bry- I mean Herobrine!” Bethany said, a sort of sad look in her eyes that quickly faded. “I fought the ender dragon and we kicked butt!”  
“I bet you did!” Cierra told her. “Isaac, what did you-“

It was then that they realized that Isaac had not spoken a word, nor had he moved an inch since they’d spawned. They also took the opportunity to realize that he didn’t seem all that Isaac-looking anymore, and was more of a zombie that shared majority of features with Isaac. Panic ensued.

“Isaac?!” Bethany said, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up…”

The smiles from their faces fell away as they crowded around Isaac’s limp form.

“Please don’t be dead…” Choked out Cierra. “C’mon Isaac…”

Jordan lifted Isaac’s hand, letting it fall. Instead of slacking to the side, it laded on the ground and flopped around for a few seconds, completely defying any laws of physics. Jordan’s eyes widened as he pushed Bethany and Cierra out of the way.

“Hey-!”

“He’s not dead,” Jordan said quickly. “He’s ragdolling.”

Cierra frowned. “What?”

“Remember one of the more recent mods we did?” Jordan said, closing his eyes and thinking hard. “We had the Left 4 Dead _ragdolls_ , not the playermodels.” He told them. He stuck a hand into his pocket, and in an instant, a holographic inventory menu popped up in front of him. He rushed through it a moment before selecting something, causing it to dissipate. In his hands, he held a small tool that looked like a hodgepodge of metal parts connected with duct tape, all supporting a small screen.

So basically a more useful Apple Watch.

Jordan messed with some settings on the screen before the text read “Make NPC” and fired the thing at Isaac. Everyone held their breath, anticipating the result…

Isaac lifted his head.

There was a cheer as they all enveloped him in a hug. Random sentence fragments such as “we’re so glad you’re okay” and “you had us for a minute there” were exchanged among the four. Isaac was startled a minute, confusion plain on his face, but then he smiled and hugged back.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.” He grinned. “Guess it was kind of like the ultimate troll, am I right?”

There was a collective laugh. “Yeah, don’t do that again.” Chuckled Jordan.

“I won’t,” Isaac assured him.

Just as everything seemed to be working itself out and the sun finally dipped below the city skyline, it dawned on them very quickly that they’d forgotten something- or someone.

“Greetings, fellow adventurers!” Snickered the figure of Jimmy Casket, standing silhouetted against the light from the distant street lamps. His knife glinted, his eyes piercing through the darkeness like two tiny red stars.

The four stood up, facing them in their game getup. Jordan, in the power armor, Cierra in her Aperture Science uniform complete with portal gun, Isaac in his zombie form, and Bethany clad in iron armor and diamond sword.

Jimmy grinned, extending his hands. “Welcome to the boss level!”


	29. Warrior Rising

As the sun set over the High School, our heroes seemed to have reached their final destination. Their final fight. Their final victory… Or their final destruction.

Ready or not, this would be the end.

Casket grinned, circling the foursome with a devious look in his flaring red eyes. “Guess what?!” He exclaimed, hopping up and down excitedly like a child. “Remember what I asked when you all went in after Isaac? ‘Bout how I wanted to control everything? Well look at me!” He extended both hands. “I’m a player now!”

The siblings exchanged fearful glances. Cierra spoke up. “What do you mean ‘a player?’”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, still grinning. “I mean that I’m like you! I can spawn anything and everything, right here and right now!”

To demonstrate, he pulled up a holographic inventory like Jordan’s and scrolled through. “Let’s see…” He mused. “Boss fight beginning in 3…”

Two velociraptor NPCs spawned at his side.

“2…”

Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy appeared behind him.

“1…”

Slenderman, Rake, and Jeff NPCs spawned in front of him, their eyes dead and glowing red, unlike their living counterparts.

“Start!”

Three Weeping Angels formed a line behind the creepy pastas.

The fight was on.

“I’ll take the raptors!” Jordan called, readying his gun. “Isaac, you get the animatronics! Bethany, the Pastas! Cierra, get the Weeping Angels!”

“Got it!” The three called back to him.

Jordan nodded, dashing to the side to draw the Raptors away from the fray. The first one roared, rearing its head and charging forward. He deftly dodged, getting a few good shots to its side before it lurched back. He fired at them again to hold them back before turning his gaze to the rectangular courtyard. He ran in its direction, firing backwards as he struggled to maneuver in his armor. He’d fight them there.

 

Cierra clutched her portal gun tightly as the Weeping Angels faced her ominously. _Don’t blink… Don’t blink…_ She told herself continuously. She backed up slowly, racking her brain for possible ways out of the situation. The Angels’ faces stayed frozen in their place, their hands covering their eyes. She forced her own to stay open, but at long last she had to blink. The Angels moved.

 

The Pastas immediately leapt into action, Slenderman’s tentacles waving about behind him as the sound of static filled the air. Jeff grinned madly, his bloodshot eyes widened as he approached with knife in hand. Rake screeched, skittering about on the asphalt on all fours. His glowing white eyes flared, reminding her of Bry. She quickly drew her sword, adjusting her helmet. Rake was the first to jump forwards, leaping at her with hands extended. She swung as hard as she could, and the Rake yelped as he was knocked to the side with a thud. He got back up slowly, hissing. Jeff lunged forward, swiping his knife. Bethany parried with her sword, pushing forward and knocking him off balance. Slender kept walking forward, Bethany’s vision blurring as he approached. He was going to be harder to fight than ever.

 

Isaac narrowed his eyes, stepping backwards to face the row of seemingly lifeless animatronics. He hissed (which he found immensely cool, since he couldn’t do that before becoming a zombie and it sounded really awesome), lashing his tongue (even though it wasn’t really a tongue per se) at them. The second he averted his eyes, there was a screeching “ _SKREEEEE_ ” as Bonnie lifted his head, followed by Freddy and Chica. Bonnie was the first to coma after him, dashing forward with robotic movements as his arms swayed stiffly at his side. Isaac’s tongue wrapped it around his torso, sending him tumbling side to side. He released, and Bonnie was reduced to a pile of sparking parts. “This is so cool!” Isaac crowed.

With the dinosaurs successfully confined to the courtyard, Jordan figured that the fight would be able to be contained and thus easier to plot strategies and positioning. The raptors snarled, circling with their tails lashing back and forth. Jordan swallowed. They were a lot harder to fight in real life… The second raptor roared, dashing forward with it’s jaws gnashing. Jordan waited to long to leap tot he side, and it’s muzzle struck the side of his power armor. He cringed, but the armor absorbed most of the blow. He took the opportunity of the raptor’s discombobulation to shoot down it’s mouth, the bullets exiting in the back of its head. It let out a deafening roar that quickly turned to a pained whimper as it fell limp with a crash. Jordan exhaled a breath. One down, one to go.

 

Cierra stepped back slowly, forcing her eyes to stay open. The Angels had moved closer, their faces not changing. She clutched her Portal gun tightly to her chest, backing up. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the edge of the courtyard had a tunnel-like overhang where the classrooms above were suspended over the path. One of the windows, she noticed, was shattered. She grinned to herself, walking backwards as fast as she could to stand underneath it. Slowly, a plan began forming in her head. It was a long shot, but at least it was a shot. _Blink_. The Angels were closing in fast, and they began to strategically position themselves right in front of her and towards either side, blocking escape without taking her eyes off of at least one of them. Cierra breathed, hands shaking slightly. This better work.

 

Bethany’s sword glinted in the starlight as Slender approached, never increasing or decreasing pace. Jeff and Rake were recuperating at a very slow speed, mumbling inaudible curses and hisses. Slender loomed over Bethany, whose vision was getting blurry and out of focus like a broken camera. She swung her sword blindly, which he simply avoided by pausing. Bethany blinked madly, trying to clear her sight. Jeff had gotten up, and was dashing towards Bethany. He veered left, into her blind spot where the blurriness was the worst. A dull ringing rebounded in her ears, almost like the sound of flickering static. Jeff’s screeching laugh broke through it just before he leapt forward, knife slashing about. Bethany, seeing him just moments before impact, pointed her sword at him, not moving it until Jeff caught on a bit too late… And impaled himself on the end. Bethany tossed him to the side, where he ragdolled and went limp. Blinking away the static, she faced the other two who were soon to join him.

 

Freddy and Chica stared at the remains of Bonnie for a few moments, a mix of confusion and horror plastered on their stiff faces. Their eyes swiveled to face him, narrowed and flaring with anger. The sound of an enraged _SkKREeEEeeEEEeeeEE!_ tore through the night as Freddy charged forward, sparks flying from his metallic shell, worn with years of neglect. Isaac grinned to himself, trying the same move only to find that Chica was restraining him. He grimaced, now forced to either stay in the same spot or charge. Seeing that the first option was probably a bad idea, he went to #2. He ran forward with incredible speed, jumping into the air and landing on the ill-fated animatronic’s head. With strength that could only be explained by… Well, being a zombie, Isaac swiftly detached the Freddy NPC’s head from the remainder of its shell. It fell to the ground, twitching and sparking until it finally stilled. To finish of Chica, helashed his tongue-thing back and forth, sending her flying and eventually crashing into a wall. He stood up, dusting himself off. Just before he was about to announce that he had finished, a thought occurred to him. The Fox still remained.

 

Jordan was quickly running out of breath, and the extra weight of the power armor was not helping in the slightest. He was also running out of ideas. The raptor had sent him running all over, dodging its jaws and landing only a few shots every now and again. It dashed by him, he dodged, and turned to fire once more. A few bullets entered its upper tail, but this one seemed to be much faster than its deceased predecessor. It whirled around, reptilian eyes slitted and narrowed in obvious rage. It roared once more, the ground almost trembling as it ran towards him again. Jordan leapt to the side, clutching the trigger… Only to find that nothing happened. Panicked, he checked the clip. Empty. He was out of ammo. Jordan tossed the gun to the side, racking his brain for a new plan. This was going to take a lot more than just a few bullets to get past. He searched through his inventory for anything that was useful. His guns had all been emptied of ammo to defeat the first and damage the second raptor, which left him a crowbar and whatever he could find in the inventory. He searched through, seeing only slabs of wood, flowerpots, and other assorted items that would not be of use. Right when he figured that he was doomed, Jordan’s eyes landed on something that would make Isaac’s light up in an instant. He selected it, and a stick of dynamite landed right in front of him. He picked it up, a crazy idea popping into his head. The raptor narrowed its eyes menacingly, almost laughing at him with its gaze. It roared once more, dashing forward. Jordan didn’t leap away instantly this time, clutching the dynamite in his hand. When he had a clear shot, he threw the dynamite into the dino’s open jaws, falling to the side just in time. The raptor paused in confusion, and Jordan gave it a smug look.

“Fire in the hole!” He shouted, setting it off.

It was then that the raptor exploded.

 

The Angels were closing in with every blink. Cierra had gotten them right where she needed them. They’d begun form a half-circle around her, like an animal stalking its prey. Cierra blinked once more to get them under the overhang, and they removed their hands from their stony faces. Fangs protruded from their mouths, claws extending from their outstretched hands. Their once quiet an ominous aura had melted to make way for one of horror and death. Cierra shivered, panic racing through her. It was time for the plan to be put in action. She fired an orange portal underneath the first Angel, and another one on the ceiling above them. It fell through in true Gmod style, landing at the same angle and without a single dent in the stone. She repeated the same thing with the second angel, placing it slightly across from the first, making eye contact with it. she glanced up to look where she would fire the next, only to glance back and find the third angel right in front of her face. She screamed, staggering back only to find that the portal gun was secure in the Angel’s grasp. She tried to free it to no avail, and eventually surrendered her weapon. It would take a bit of mind games to trick this thing. She ran backwards and blinked, allowing it follow her. She ran right in between the other two angels, blinking at just the right moment for the angel to freeze in between them. Both of the angels were facing the thing, and all three were trapped in their stone state forever. She’d won.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Bethany to even see where she was going. Slender’s manipulation prevented her from achieving much more than a few swipes at things that weren’t there. Rake leapt at her, and she repeated the same move that had killed Jeff. He dodged it the first and second time, but the third attempt at attack had quickly put amend to him. Unlike the previous two, Slender’s AI was clever and didn’t rely on brute force strategies. It was cunning. It waited. Then it struck. Bethany was blinking rapidly, but it did very little to quell the blurriness. She clutched her sword in her hand, trying to detect a pattern in his attacks. She recalled a line from “To Kill a Mockingbird-“ “To really understand someone, you have to put yourself in their shoes and walk around a while.” What was Slender’s motive? Well, that was easy enough. To kill. What was his usual pattern? Most of the time he stalked people as they ran- Wait. That was it! Slender kept walking, no matter what. People always ran away, and never attacked once. He gained strength from their fear, since he was never challenged. So what would the monster never suspect? Someone running _towards_ him and not away. Bethany grinned, thrusting her sword in front of her, closing her eyes, and charging. An inhuman screech alerted her to the fact that she’d hit her mark. Opening her eyes, Slender ragdolled and the blurriness faded. The Crowbar Queen has claimed another victory.

Isaac glanced around, looking for Foxy. He’d disappeared while he’d fought the others, most likely to gain the advantage of stealth. There was no sign of him, but then Isaac remembered that sight was what triggered him. You had to listen for his footsteps in the hallway to block him from entering the office… Which was exactly the noise that was now present in the parking lot. Another _SKReeEEEEeeeeEE!_ sounded in the night, and Isaac whirled to face it. Foxy’s hook dragged across the pavement, showering sparks as he dashed forward. Isaac used the whip attack again, but Foxy had learned and ducked. He tried to jump on him, but again the fox ducked and whirled around. They stood, facing each other. Isaac searched his brain for another plan, and Foxy let out a screech of impatience. This was evidently a game to him, and it was Isaac’c turn. C’mon, c’mon! What was another cool zombie ability that he could use? What were Smokers capable of- Wait. They were called _Smokers_. That gave Isaac an idea. He hissed, expelling all the air in his lungs. To his surprise and delight, a thick green smoke began pouring out of his mouth and covering the area. Foxy glanced around feverishly, blindly stumbling with hook swinging around. Isaac grinned to himself. Foxy’s dulled screeches told him exactly where to strike, and with a quick slash here and there, the fox fell. Isaac waved away the smokescreen, stepping away from the piles of parts.

“Zombies: 1. Technology: 0! I win!” He crowed, rejoining the others.

 

Casket appeared enraged as the foursome faced him once more, united as a team. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” He shouted, fuming. “You killed my dinosaurs! I had _names_ for them! Phil and Joe! And you decided to run along and _murder_ them! And you killed all of the pastas, which had helped you before!” He paused. “Well, technically it wasn’t _them_ per se, but still! No remorse, just stab stab stab! Just like me, kinda.” He mused.

Jordan grinned, stepping in front of them. “No matter what you throw at us, we’ll take it down,” He told Casket with a determined look on his face. “As a team.”

Casket scoffed. “I can spawn as many things as I like! There’s no way you’ll get past me! Wave after wave of-“

“HALT, YOU ABSOLUTE NERD!” Came a voice from the edge of the parking lot.

Everyone turned to see a familiar face standing outlined against the fog. the figure stepped forward, revealing glasses, a plaid vest, and about seventeen pencils stuffed into his pockets.

“Spencer?!” Everyone shouted in surprise.

“Yes!” He replied, his lisp in full effect. “It is I: The Mighty Spence come to save your lives!”

“Skedaddle, kid!” Casket told him. “This doesn’t involve you. And besides, one more person? What’ll that do?”

Spencer made an attempt at a scoff. “You act like I came alone!”

At that moment, many more figures joined him, marching through the fog. Among them was the entire Acachalla family (including Maxwell), Freddy (ridden by Sally), Toilet Toucher, Sally Betty Jessica, Maddie Friend, Stardust Sprinkleshine, Princeton Quagmire, Sue the Suckish Soldier, the real Rake, Slender, Jeff, Ben, Squidward, Sonic.exe, and Officer Maloney. They marched forward, in a moment that could only be described as breathtaking.

“It’s everyone,” Breathed Jordan.

“All of the characters that we’ve ever made in Gmod!” Isaac said, mouth agape.

“They’re all here.” Bethany stammered.

“For the final fight!” Cheered Cierra.

Spencer stood at the front of the crowd. “WELL, WHAT’RE WE WAITING FOR, TROOPS?! FOR NARNIA!!!”

At his command, the entirety of the VenturianTale army charged forth, heading straight towards Jimmy. Jimmy acted fast, spawning raptor after raptor, NPC after NPC. It seemed to be quite an even match.

“LET’S GET THEM!” Jordan crowed, leaping forward into the fray, followed by his siblings.

The battle that ensued may be the greatest battle to ever take place in human history. Casket vs. VenturianTale. Evil vs. good. Destruction vs. imagination. The most regrettable fact was that no one would be there to record the valiant fight put up by both sides. It would forever remained constrained to the game, lingering only within the memories of it’s warriors. The sound of gunfire melted with the echoing roar of the dwindling raptors, which sounded in tune with a cries of victory from the VenturianTale army.

Casket was losing. He was losing badly, and he knew it. “You think you can stop me?!” He shouted, stepping back towards the high school. “I can spawn as much as I want! I’m more powerful than you! I’m more-“

A single gunshot rang out in the clearing, louder than all else. A hush fell on the warriors as the last of Jimmy’s troops fell, thudding to the concrete below. Everyone’s eyes swiveled to face Casket, whose eyes widened with surprise. He sank to his knees, then fell to the ground.

Standing behind him with a smoking pistol was none other than Jonathan Maxwell Toast himself.


	30. Thin Ice

“TOAST!” The resounding call of Johnny Toast’s name seemed to come from all directions as he shakily put his gun down. There was a momentary pause before he was recognized, as he did not look the same as he did prior to his death.

Instead of his dusty climbing gear, Toast now sported a white dress shirt with a folded collar, as well as a black vest that contained a wristwatch that had its chain hanging out of the interior pocket. He also wore sleek black dress pants with a belt, which appeared to have been ironed. He was certainly more clean-shaven than before, and the rope and pickaxe had disappeared. A few specks of golden… dust? Still lingered around his hands as he shakily clutched the pistol.

“Toast!!” Cierra exclaimed, running up to him with the other three. “How’re you… Why do you look different?”  
“You were… gone…” He stammered, putting the gun away with a stunned expression on his face. “Casket… Killed me. I was… Technically dead for quite awhile.”

“Then how are you alive?!” Asked Bethany.

“Part Time Lord,” He replied slowly. “That’s how I never stay dead, no matter how many times I die on missions. Ghost doesn’t know. My appearance usually doesn’t change, but… This time I guess it did.”

“I thought you could just respawn,” Isaac pointed out.

Toast shook his head. “Unlike you, we’re not players. We die, we died for good. The entirely of the Acachalla Family has some Time Lord in their blood, which is why their influence extends across Realms and time periods. Think about it: Maxwell Acachalla existed in the old west, yet he’s Papa Acahcalla’s younger cousin.”

“That makes sense…” Jordan said. “I always kind of thought about that.”

Toast sank to his knees in from of Casket’s body. “Ghost was still in there,” He stuttered, tears streaming from his eyes.

In moments, Casket’s features began to fade, replaces by Ghost’s. His hair lightened, and he grew slightly taller. The jacket’s logo shifted to the PIE symbol, and the bloodstains vanished. To everyone’s surprise, his eyes fluttered open.

“GHOST!” Toast cried joyously, hugging him tightly. “I swear I thought you were dead!”  
“I could say the same for you!” Ghost chuckled, cringing. “I saw Casket kill you! And- ow. That really hurts.”   
“Sorry,” Toast said, releasing with a grin. “And I guess you could say that I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Ghost frowned. “What?”  
Toast shrugged. “Long story. I shot you! How are you alive?”

Jordan searched through his thought, recalling how Isaac was revived. Any sort of odd quirk of Gmod that might save a character… Wait. Casket was turned into a _player…_ So it wasn’t a _possession_ per se…

“Wait!” Jordan suddenly shouted. “I know what happened! I know what happened!” Before anyone could ask him to elaborate, he launched into a speech. “Casket wanted full control, and since we control everything he got his wish when we got sent into the games. Er, realms. He didn’t become all-powerful. He told us. He became a player like us. Players don’t possess. Ghost, you became his _playermodel._ You weren’t possessed anymore. Remember how you mentioned that you could restrain him sometimes when you were being possessed as long as you were awake when it happened? You could only talk as a voice inside his head. Like we voice whenever we choose you as our playermodel. When Toast shot you, Casket left. He’s not a player anymore. You’re once again a character.”

There were a few moments of silence before Ghost spoke up. “That… Makes sense, actually.”

Jordan grinned smugly.

“Agh, who cares, anyway!” Came Spencer’s lisping voice. “Everyone lived! We won! Good prevailed, for goodness’ sake. Let’s get a cheer so I can get back to my Firefly marathon!”

“Goingtobeaveryshortmarathonbut Okay!” Shouted Jordan.

There were jumbles of joyous cheers as the VenturianTale Army celebrated their much-deserved victory. Maxwell tossed his hat into the air, followed by the firing of weaponry into the night sky.

“Wait! We need a name!” Spencer griped loudly. “This mayhem will not stand!”

Everyone paused. “How about the Tales?” Suggested Bethany.

“Yes!” Spencer called impatiently. “Let us hear if for the Tales! I’m out of here.” He added the last part under his breath.

The cheering commenced once more, and eventually a chorus of “Long live the Tales! Long live the Tales!” joined in. It was at this moment that it seemed that the siblings’ journey had reached an end, and the universe had righted itself once more. Everything appeared perfect, as good had prevailed over evil and nothing more was to be accomplished. To some, it may appear that everything was going a little _too_ well. As I hope you’ve learned by now, this was simply the holding of a breath, the world in waiting for a stone to be thrown in its river.

The stone had been selected already.

All that was left was to find the one to throw it.

The Tales eventually dwindled in numbers, leaving the parking lot alone to the siblings and PIE. They were all smiling, Ghost leaning on Toast due to a broken leg that he’d gotten while Casket was controlling him.

“What do you say we head back? Overload something and send our young adventurers home.” Ghost suggested.

“Sounds like a very good plan to me,” Isaac said. “Wait- I’ll be normal once we get out, right? Not a zombie?”

Ghost nodded. “Hopefully. Zombies don’t exist in reality… Right?”

Isaac started to reply. “Well…”

“Nope,” Jordan cut in with a grin. “Only in ants.”

“Good,” Said Toast. “Then you’ll be just fine. Let’s head off before it gets too chilly. I’ll fix up some tea and we’ll send you on home.”

The six of them swiftly left the High School, crossing the deserted street and walking down sideawalks. “The van was destroyed in the fight,” Toast told them. Ghost open his mouth, but Toast cut him off. “The quickest way back is through the park, and across the lake. It’s frozen over currently, so it should be safe to cross.” 

“Alright,” Said Isaac, absentmindedly trying to create a lasso with his smoker tongue thing.

They came across a park, half of which was occupied by a frozen lake. Trees dotted the area, and a few park benches lined a path that winded around the dense grass. A dock stood at the far and of the lake, ice coating the surface and glimmering in the moonlight.

“We cross here,” Ghost said. “Tread lightly- it’s thin. We should be okay, though. I was here a few weeks ago and it was fine.”

They approached the lake, stepping on the ice cautiously. When none of it shattered, they figured it was safe. Casually they began to cross, with Toast taking the lead and Ghost trailing behind to make sure that none of the young adventurers accidentally took an unwanted detour. They were about halfway across when the first crack was heard. There was an abrupt yet short pause, but they continued despite it. It seemed far off to Toast, so he didn’t deem it a concern. Then the second was heard. And the third and the fourth. By the time Toast and the others had whirled around, the crash had already been heard and Ghost had disappeared below the ice.


	31. Nostalgia

The icy water muffled the worried cries of his friends as Ghost plunged into the depths of the lake, the shattered remnants of ice drifting around him. The cold was suffocating, and he sputtered while trying to force his stiff and frozen hands to swim upwards.

_HOLY CRAP THIS IS COLD-_ Came a voice that Ghost wished he would never hear again.

_“Casket!”_ Ghost shouted in his mind. _“I thought you were dead!”_

_I sort of wish!_ Casket sniped. _Recall that I’m a player now. When you die you can see your player model lay dead awhile. You’re alive so that didn’t happen. Now I’m stuck in your head again as a ghost. I physically can’t respawn. I don’t think the code lets me in the game anymore…_

_“Good riddance,”_ Huffed Ghost, quickly losing the ability to move. _“Are you doing this?”_

_No,_ Replied Casket. _You’re in a frozen lake._

_“I thought you’d be stabbing something by now,”_ Ghost said grimly, shivering madly. _“Or at least talking about it.”_

Casket seemed to pause. _I… Don’t know. I don’t know anything right now, and neither do you._

Ghost tried to scoff. “ _What do you mean?”_

The faces of the siblings and Toast appeared in the opening in the ice that was slowly getting smaller as he continued to sink.

_I mean that what I once knew as myself was a warped creation of once who called himself a friend,_ Casket said, the insanity in his voice gone. There was a certain emotion to it… The murderer was sad.

_“You’re talking in riddles,”_ Ghost muttered. _“Please be clear.”_

_You hate thinking about your past. Before the car crash and everything. O- Your parents. Think about them._

Ghost shut his eyes with some difficulty and tried to remember. To his horror, he couldn’t. Beyond the crash and his later childhood, his life was gone. “ _What are you doing?!”_ Ghost shouted at him mentally.

_See? I’m in your head. I’m going to try to fix it. It took dying for his hold to loosen. I had to shake it off from there. I was in shock awhile. You should know- I’m never quiet._

_“FIX WHAT?! WHO IS ‘HE?’ WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?”_ Ghost shouted.

_You’ll see. Just give me a moment._

Black dots began to dance around his vision, enveloping everything that he could see. Toast’s cries became warped and distant, distorted by distance and Ghost’s fading mind. The dots kept getting bigger and bigger until there was nothing left but darkness. Without much resistance, Ghost slipped into unconsciousness.

***

_“Johnny, catch!”_

_A football was thrown across the front yard of a quiet suburban residence, sailing through the summer air and crashing into the brown-haired head of a young boy. It bounced off, landing in the grass. The boy glanced behind him, his brown eyes unamused._

_“Jimmy, stop it.” He muttered, returning to the composition book on his lap, scribbling away._

_“But Johnny!” The smaller boy whined, his shaggy dark brown hair falling into his eyes of the same color. His frayed shorts and stained t-shirt flopped around in the summer wind, about two sizes too big. His mud caked sneakers dashed along the yard and he sat down next to his older brother. “Are you still working on that?”_

_The older boy, Johnny, nodded impatiently. “Yeah. I’ve almost solved it!”_

_Jimmy rolled his eyes, flopping over on the grass. “C’mooooon. The house isn’t haunted.”_

_“Yea it is,” He replied. “Go believe what you want. I have to work on this.”_

_“But it’s Saturday!” Jimmy whined. “It’s supposed to be playtime!”_

_Johnny ignored him, leaning farther over the notebook._

_Jimmy groaned and got up. “I’m gonna go inside and play on the SNES, okay?”_

_“Fine,” Johnny muttered._

_“‘Kay.” With that, Jimmy turned and rushed to the door._

_Once the door slammed behind him, Johnny turned to the sketch of a cardboard puppet in his notebook. “I know you exist,” He said to himself. “I’ll prove it.”_

 

_The Casket family was normal in all regards. Two normal kids that go to a normal school and live in a normal house in a normal suburb just west of a normal city occupied with normal people. In all, your average life. Johnny and Jimmy Casket were happy children most of the time, each possessing different obsessions that occupied most of their free time and thoughts. Jimmy loved video games, and Johnny had busied himself with ghost hunting. Both of them didn’t understand the other’s obsession._

_Their parents were understanding, supporting their passions completely. At 8 and 6, they didn’t need to focus on professions or college yet. They were huge supporters of being a kid when you could._

_The brothers’ bedroom was located in the attic of their home, as it was the largest space and there wasn’t any storage up there. The walls of Johnny’s half of the room were adorned with shelves housing Ghostbusters memorabilia and ghost hunting notes and posters. Jimmy’s contained posters of various Nintendo games, and various childlike drawings of characters from his favorite games._

_On this particular summer afternoon, Johnny was laying down on his bed with his head buried in a book. Jimmy was sitting on the top bunk of the bed with several action figures, acting out a scene out of Sonic Adventure 2._

_“‘I did what you wanted, right Maria?’” He mimed Shadow’s voice while dropping the action figure of the black hedgehog off of the bed._

_Johnny rolled his head. “Would you stop that?”_

_Jimmy hung upside down, letting his head dangle so that he peered at Johnny. “Why? It’s a really good part!”_

_“From a video game,” Johnny sniped. “That isn’t real. About characters that don’t exist.”  
“They exist to _ me. _” Jimmy argued._

_“Sure they do.” Johnny muttered, hopping off of his bed to put the book away. “I look for ghosts, which do exist.”_

_“No they don’t.” Jimmy argued, jumping down from his bunk to follow his brother. Johnny placed the book on his shelf of half-finished paranormal investigation stories and walking over to the huge window. He looked out of the window panes overlooking the neighborhood. He liked to peer into the lives of the passersby, making up stories for ever face that passed by. It eliminated some of the mystery of anonymousness, which confronted him to some degree._

_Jimmy joined him, peeking over his shoulder. “They’re not real, so why do you spend all day researching them?”_

_Johnny bristled. “I’d say the same for your stupid video games!” He shouted, storming a few steps away from the window._

_Jimmy followed, but paused behind him. “They’re not stupid,” He insisted, getting upset._

_“Neither are ghosts!” He replied, slightly quieter._

_“Just- Stop it. I need to be alone for a bit to cool down.” Johnny huffed, preparing to walk away._

_“But Johnny-“  
“I SAID STOP IT!”_

_Johnny turned and gave his brother a shove, which turned out to be harder than he expected. Jimmy staggered at his touch, falling backwards into the window. Johnny expected that to be the end of it, but their house was very old and nothing was very stable. Jimmy crashed through the glass, screaming as he tumbled out of it._

_“JIMMY!” Johnny cried out with eyes wide. He dashed to the window, hoping to see him shaking his head in a bush or something, but was instead met with the mangled body of his brother lying in a growing pool of sickening scarlet. Johnny, hands shaking, sank to his knees._

_And cried._

_Johnny Casket sobbed the rest of that day. He refused to leave his room, muttering ‘it’s all my fault’ repeatedly into his tearstained pillow. When the day was replaced with the dark cloak of night, his stifled cries faded and he was eventually lulled into a fitful sleep._

 

_In another place best described as nowhere, the shuddering cries of another echoed in the empty void. Jimmy was confused, alone, and afraid. Sure, he had died, but it was an accident. Johnny didn’t mean it. He had egged him on, so it was technically his own fault. The only thing he had to regret now was that he was separated from the only one he ever felt safe with, and he’d possibly never see his brother again. It was cold here, and dark, and so, so…_

_Lonely._

_Jimmy always supposed that he’d go to heaven at one point. He went to church most Sundays and hadn’t stolen anything important or killed anything short of an ant every now and again. Even so, nothing scary was here so he figured that this wasn’t Hell either. It definitely wasn’t heaven, though. He guessed that it was neither. Somewhere in between._

_After what felt like an eternity, a voice joined him in the nothing. “Hey, why’re you crying?”_

_He looked up, rubbing the tears and snot off his face. “H-huh?”_

_Above him was a figure composed seemingly entirely out of cardboard boxes. His torso was a wide box that connected to four other long and thin boxes that made up his arms and legs. A large, square box that was open on the bottom appeared to be his head. Two ink circles and a triangle served as his unmoving face._

_Jimmy recognized him immediately. “You’re the ghost that Johnny draws all the time!” He said. “I thought you weren’t real!”_

_“Well, I think I’m real.” It replied with the voice of a very young child. “So are you. What’s your name?”_

_“Jimmy,” He said. “Jimmy Casket. Johnny’s my brother.”_

_“I like that!” Said the box. “My name’s… Cardboard Friend! I’m here to be your friend.”_

_Jimmy nodded. “Okay. Can I ask you a question?”_

_Cardboard Friend nodded._

_“Where are we?” Jimmy asked._

_He looked around. “Uhm… I dunno.”_ **_Idoverymuchknow._ ** _“I think you come here if you have stuff you still need to take care of but didn’t. That’s why I’m here at least!”_

_Jimmy nodded absentmindedly. “I just want to see my brother again,” He murmured._

_“Why didn’t you say so?” Cardboard Friend chirped. “I can grant wishes!”_ **_Inonewayoranother._ **

_Jimmy’s eyes lit up. “You can?!”_

_The box nodded. “Uh huh! Your brother’s sleeping right now too. I’m a…”_ **_Bluffbluffbluffbluff_ ** _“I’m a dream ghost!”_

_“So you can grant my brother and I-“_

_“One wish!” Cardboard Friend finished. “Yep! I can go into his dream and let you see, if you want!”_

_“He can wish me back!” Jimmy exclaimed, eyes twinkling. “I can see him again!”_

_“If both of you wish for the same thing, yes!” The box affirmed. “I’ll be back!”_

_With that, he faded into black smoke, dissipating. A swirling vortex appeared in front of Jimmy, sort of like a space window from the video games he’d played. Through the vortex, he saw Johnny sleeping in his bed, hugging his pillow in the same position as he used to hug Jimmy when the latter couldn’t sleep._

_“Johnny!” Grinned Jimmy, wanting to jump through. He tried to touch the vortex, but his hand went right through._

_The image showed a translucent version of Cardboard Friend appear, wave to the vortex, and turn to Johnny._

_“Hey,” He said. “Wake up!”_

_Johnny, who had only been able to manage a light sleep, bolted awake. His bloodshot, sleepy eyes scanned the scene before him until they landed on Cardboard friend._

_“You’re him!” He said happily, the saddened look in his eyes faded slightly. “You’re the ghost!”_

_The box nodded. “Yep! Your brother sent me!”_

_“Jimmy?” Johnny echoed, a somber tone in his voice. “He’s alive?”_

_“No, he’s dead.” Said Cardboard Friend candidly. “But he sent me because I can grant you one wish!”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah! He wanted you to be happy, so he sent me to give you one wish to make sure that happens!”_

_“Thanks Jimmy…” Johnny siad absently, tears brimming on his eyes. “I get one wish?”_

_Cardboard Friend thought it over. “And maybe another little one if it’s good.”_

_“Okay.”_

_Jimmy was practically jumping around. This was it! Johnny could wish him home and have a happy life once more! They would play video games and hunt ghosts together and even-_

_“I wanna be the world’s best ghost hunter!”_

_…What?_

_Cardboard Friend nodded. “Okay!”_

_Jimmy’s face fell, and he sank to his knees._

_“Anything else?” The box asked._

_Johnny shook his head. Jimmy burst into tears, burying his face in his hands. He never heard Johnny say “I wish my brother was back” or Cardboard Friend reply “I can’t do that.”_

_He looked up through tear-blurred eyes in time for Johnny to say “I wish this never happened.”_

_Jimmy’s expression lightened slightly, but then he collapsed into sobs once more._

_The box extended a hand and put it to Johnny’s forehead. Johnny closed his eyes and entered an almost comatose state. “Okay, there you go!” Cardboard Friend said. “You’ll grow up to be the world’s best.”_

_“Good,” Murmured Johnny, smiling sadly._

_“I’m going to go say hi to Jimmy now,” The box told him. “You should go to bed now.”_

_The vortex faded before Johnny had the chance to say “Tell him I love him.”_

_Cardboard Friend reappeared next to Jimmy, who had fallen into hysterics. “He d-didn’t wish me back!” He cried. “H-he didn’t wish me b-back!”_

_The box shook his head. “He didn’t.”_

_“Do I still g-get my wish?” Jimmy asked, wiping his face on his t-shirt._

_The box nodded. “Yeah.”_

_“I wish to be w-with him still,” Jimmy sniffed. “I don’t care if h-he doesn’t, but I d-do.”_

**_Bendtheruleshere’smychance_** _“Right. Here you go!”_

_Cardboard Friend raised a hand, and Jimmy’s body started to fade, becoming translucent. His eyes closed, and his mouth slacked agape in a silent scream. A white wisp trailed out of his head, going into the box’s cardboard head. He lowered his hand, allowing Jimmy to float there in a ghostly form. He opened his eyes, which flared a bloodred._

_“I wish this never happened either.” He said distantly in a voice that was different from his own._

_The Box had changed as well. Black ink oozed from his eyes and mouth, and a smile had been burned into the front of his face. The corners of his box arms and chest were tinged with ash and charred. He extended a burned hand, sending Jimmy Casket tumbling into the vortex._

_In a deep and warped tone, Cardboard Friend simply said “Wish granted.” And vanished._

 

_In a way, both of the Caskets got their wish. But the thing with ghosts is that they have the special ability of taking whatever you say and bending it to their will. They physically can’t alter anything without a living mortal giving them consent, and even then it’s extremely limited. Some ghosts, however, were once those who died horrible and painful deaths. Our cardboard companion was a small child, whose brain was so underdeveloped that it remained at the IQ of a 1 year old for seven years. It then died in a house fire that his mother, driven insane with the prospect of parenting a baby forever, set to rid herself of her burden. He manifests as his favorite toy- the only friend he ever had._

_He died young. He died very young. To remain in the Nowhere forever, he exists much like a Weeping Angel: feeding on lives never lived. And, more importantly, lives taken by the ones he warps. With each life, he grows stronger. He gorges himself like a child, with no bounds or remorse. When he got strong enough, he attained the ability to manipulate those who gave him even the slightest consent- especially children, whose minds are pliable. As long as in some regard, the ‘wishes’ he grants are what they ask for, he is allowed to do whatever he sees fit._

_Johnny Casket grew up to be Johnny Ghost, after changing his name shortly following the death of his original parents. Jimmy Casket was allowed to stay with him, as a ghost that never left his mind. Multiple personality disorder, whatever you’d like to call it, is exactly this. Ghosts. Lives never lived. Events long forgotten. People long forgotten to the unforgiving tides of time._

_And as for the second wish? They remembered nothing. To them, it had never happened._

_Until now, as the memories once locked away are being reawakened._

_I guess near death will do that to a person, eh?_

***

Johnny’s eyes opened, an entire lifetime passing in his mind but only a few moments going by in reality.

“ _I-is it true?”_ He stammered.

_Yes. Now would not be a good time for a practical joke!_ Casket replied.

“ _Jimmy, I- I didn’t know!”_ Ghost stuttered in his head. 

_None of that matters now. Now listen, and listen closely. You’ve got no air left. If I take over for a last minute, I’ll swap bodies with you and be the one to drown. I’ll leave the game, and you’ll be left with one last breath. Okay? We’ll have to time this right. If-_

_“NO!”_ Ghost insisted. “ _I’m not losing you again!”_

_There’s no time for that. I’m taking over. Are you ready?_

_“W-wait-“_ Ghost said, mind fading as Casket took control again.

_What?_

_“I never got the chance to say I’m sorry. Really, truly sorry.”_

A pause.

_It’s okay._

_“Are you sure you want to do this?”_

_Of course I do. After all…_

Ghost lost consciousness, leaving Jimmy’s parting words lingering in his head.

_What are brothers for?_


	32. We Will See You Next Time

“Pull!”

“WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M DOING?!”

“Pull _harder,_ then!”

Isaac heaved, clutching the tongue appendage in his hands and pulling as hard as he could. Everyone stood in front of him, stepping back to heave Johnny Ghost out of the water. It looked sort of like human ice fishing. Isaac would have made a comment about it, had it not been for the current situation.

“I see him!” Called Toast, who was at the front. “He’s almost up! One more yank!”

“You are aware that this is actually a part of me and it hurts when you pull like that!” Isaac pointed out.

Toast ignored him, sticking his hands into the water. “I’VE GOT HIM!” He pulled up the sopping wet, shivering form of Ghost onto the ice.

“Sir, wake up… Please!” He pleaded, shaking his shoulder vehemently.

Ghost opened his eyes, coughing up water onto the ice. “T-Toast-“ He spluttered.

Toast hugged him. “Sir, don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Ghost feverishly pushed him off, eyes wide with panic. “Wait! W-we have to go back for him!”

Toast’s face twisted into a question mark. “Who?”

“We have t-to go back!” He repeated insistently. “We have to g-get him!”

“Who? Casket?” Toast frowned, trying to calm him down. “Why would you want to-“

“BECAUSE HE’S MY BROTHER!”

A hush fell over the six of them.

Toast stood up, calmly extending a hand for Ghost to take. Ghost took it, standing up and trying to take a step. Toast caught him, and Jordan came to take his other arm.

“I believe,” Said Toast. “That we have a lot to catch up on.”

***

“And I guess those hauntings were an attempting at taunting me,” Ghost went on, adjusting his blanket and taking a sip of Toast’s tea. He glanced down at the mug in his hands. “What kind of tea is this?”

“Homemade black, Sir.” Toast said proudly. “My aunt’s recipe. Thought I’d give it a go.”

“Hmm.” Ghost set the mug aside. “Tell your aunt the next time you see her that her tea is terrible.”

Toast opened his mouth as everyone started laughing, but he eventually joined in. Flames crackled in the fire pit in front of them, abandoned hot dog sticks littering the grass of the backyard. The moon hung low in the sky, the stars twinkling in the velvet night.

“I… Will be sure to do that.” Toast grinned, setting aside his own tea. He turned to the smiling siblings, who were finishing up their hot dogs. “So… Are you all ready to put an end to your adventure?”

They shared glances before nodding. “I think we’re ready to head home.” Jordan told him.

Toast and Ghost stood up. Ghost outstretched his arms, yawning. “Well, let’s go overload the universe, then.” There was a series of chuckles as everyone followed Ghost into the basement. Both of the Johnnies took to the machinery, fiddling with various devices and typing madly on the keyboards attached with thick cables and wires to huge monitors. There was the sound of electricity crackling through the musty air as a thin circle appeared in the middle of the room. An electrified membrane connected them, lighting lashing out every now and again.

“We can’t hold it for long,” Said Ghost. “So I guess this is goodbye! And… Thank you.”

Toast nodded. “We hope to see you again!”  
“There’s always a next time,” Jordan said with a faint smile. 

Cierra saluted Toast. “See you soon, you jolly ol’ brit!”

Bethany laughed. “Thanks for the crowbar, by the way!”

“I’m a zombie!” Said Isaac simply, for lack of anything else to note.

The four siblings held hands, turning their back on the world they’d only just found and braced themselves. With a single leap, they’d jumped back into their own. They’d made it, against all odds. And everyone knew that when and if they returned, there was so much more to discover.

Hey, they were VenturianTale. They’d find adventure somewhere! 

So why not start with home?

 

***

“Honestly, you four!” Came their mom’s sleepy voice from the doorway. “It’s midnight! I’ve only left you for three hours and you’ve already managed to make a mess.”

Jordan opened his eyes, quickly adjusting to the light in his bedroom. He sat up from the floor in front of the shattered computer, surrounded by broken glass and his siblings. “Hi mom!” He said. “I don’t think any of us have ever been this glad to see you.”

Paula raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Would any of you loving children care to explain why on earth you broke a computer that I’m pretty sure wasn’t here this morning in the middle of the night?”

Isaac shrugged. “Uh…”

Neither Cierra nor Bethany offered an answer.

“Well…” Jordan chuckled. “It certainly is a tale worth telling…”

 

 

The End


End file.
